Under Different Circumstances
by fistfulsofwords
Summary: What would happen if Kensi and Deeks met under different circumstances? Kensi Blye, fresh off being left by her fiance, wants one thing: to get through her senior year of college drama-free, and without getting attached to anyone. When she meets a charming law student at a party, she can't help but feel stuck on him...or smitten, whatever.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first multi-chapter fic, so bear with me as I battle the ups and down of committing to something longer than a chapter. Reviews are totally welcome and will only motivate me to write more, so please tell me what you like and/or what I can work on. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles.

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><p>"Kensi Blye, you are going to this party," Monica said in exasperation "You can't get out of this one. It's the last weekend before classes start! It's like, sacrilegious if you don't."<p>

Kensi sighed into her friend's pillow, which she was hugging to her chest. She watched Monica flit around the room, tossing various wisps of thin t-shirts and bedazzled jeans onto the floor in search of the _perfect_ outfit. "Parties are so boring," Kensi whined, "Everyone gets sloppy drunk and watching people make out in every possible corner is not my idea of fun. Neither is being felt up by every single guy who passes me. It's disgusting."

Now it was Monica's turn to sigh, "Kensi. It's our last year of college. You have to live a little! Going to classes, training at the base a few times a week, never going out, it's not healthy. Please come tonight. Please?" Monica pouted. It was quite a sight, the curvy brunette putting on her puppy-dog eyes while standing the in the doorway of her bathroom in just a bra and a pair of jeans, one eye done up in makeup, the eyeliner pencil poised at the corner of the other.

Kensi hugged the pillow tighter and watched her friend carefully. Ever since Jack had left, still less than a year ago, Kensi had been hesitant to participate in any social interaction, especially parties or clubs. She didn't want to forget her mistakes in some random guy on a dance floor. She wanted the pain to remind her of everything she'd done wrong. And a little part of her still believed he would come back. Monica understood this— she was the only person Kensi had confessed any of her feelings to—and she usually didn't push Kensi into anything she didn't want to do. That's not to say she hadn't told Kensi on multiple occasions that she was worried about her, and that it might be good for her to get out and meet other people. Kensi was stubborn, though, and Monica accepted that without question.

Monica finished her eyes, dark and smoky with a trained hand, not trashy like most of the girls who would be at the party. She turned and pointed the mascara bottle at Kensi, "Now, are you going to go put on one of those sexy dresses I know are tucked away in your closet, or do I have to force you into it?" Kensi laughed. Both girls were aware that Kensi was much stronger and could never be "forced" to do anything.

"If I go to this party, you can't force me to go to any more this year," Kensi conceded. Monica hopped excitedly and clapped her hands. Kensi held up a finger, "But I'm dressing myself." Monica's grin slipped a little and then she shrugged, the smile sliding easily back into place.

Kensi stood in her room in the apartment that she shared with Monica. She stared at the closet; boxes were still stacked in the corner from her moving in a few months ago. She'd stayed in her and Jack's place until the lease was up, and then Monica practically packed Kensi's stuff for her and moved her into the extra bedroom at her apartment. Now, Kensi still wasn't completely unpacked. A few things, like her father's uniforms and medals, she preferred to be kept safe. Others, like some of Jack's things that he'd left behind, she preferred to keep out of sight.

The closet had Kensi's small collection of clothes in it, including a few of the dresses Monica had mentioned. Kensi had specifically bought them to impress Jack. One of them she'd even planned on wearing on Christmas, but he'd left before he ever got to see it. Kensi took a deep breath and pushed the thought out of her mind at the same time she pushed the dress farther back into the closet. She would not think about Jack tonight. If she was going to get dressed up and go out with her best friend, she was going to try to have some fun. Instead of a dress, she chose a dark, slim-fitting pair of jeans and a loose, light blue t-shirt. Unlike Monica, Kensi liked to leave a little to the imagination, though she wasn't going tonight to pick up guys, so why should she be worried about that?

Although the idea of hooking up tonight was far out of her mind, Kensi slipped on a black, lacy pair of underwear and a matching bra. If she was going to do this, she was going to go all out. After putting her shirt and jeans on, Kensi stared in the mirror. She hadn't attempted to do anything with her hair in a few months, partly because the heat would just make it frizzy, but also because she didn't have the motivation to make herself look presentable. She had no one to look good for, anyway, and she had to tie it back for training, which was almost every day. Just now, her wavy ponytail swung between her shoulders blades and a few curls escaped and framed her face. She blew at one as it fell in her eye. She then pulled the elastic out of her hair and the unruly curls tumbled down her back. Monica came around the corner, looking perfect as always.

She eyed Kensi's outfit without a word, though her expression said she wasn't happy about the lack of sex appeal. She then saw Kensi's hair. "You're finally wearing it down," she said. She didn't have to say it, but Kensi knew the other girl was waiting for her to ask for help. Stubborn as she was, Kensi gave in.

"Will you help me?" She asked.

Monica smirked and turned Kensi around, steering her to the other bathroom, which housed Monica's arsenal of hair and makeup products. Deciding to just give in and let Monica have her night, Kensi allowed her to paint and perfect everything above the neck before they headed out into the night.

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><p><em>"Marty, man, you've gotta come with me to this party. There's this girl and I really need a wingman tonight. So hit me up when you get this and let me know. Talk to you." <em>

Marty Deeks hung up on his voicemail and grinned at his phone. As much as he didn't want to go to an undergrad party, he couldn't begrudge Paul his girl, another in a long string in the search for _the one_. The men were nearing on 25 and Paul was determined to meet a beautiful, smart, successful girl to marry by the time he was 28 and starting up his own law firm. That was the plan, at least.

Paul and Deeks were the black sheep of the law program, known for their laid-back demeanors and not-so-prim appearances of shaggy hair and scruffy faces. They were also both at the top of the program, earning them more hatred from their fellow students. Whereas Deeks couldn't care less where he ended up—with girls, his career, or where he was living next year—Paul was a little more focused, and he felt he was destined to start a law firm with a loving wife on his arm at the ribbon cutting. And who was Deeks to hold his friend back from his dreams?

Chuckling, Deeks dialed Paul's number and listened to the ringing on the other end as he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Marty," Paul sighed in relief into the line, "Dude, you have to help me out. I have no idea what to wear."

Deeks held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he twisted off the cap of the bottle and said, "You're such a girl, man. Wear what you usually wear."

He could just see Paul's shoulders slumping as the other man realized his confident friend was right. "Jeans and a button-up it is," he said. Deeks took a swig of his beer. It might do to get a little buzzed before going to a messy undergrad party where there would be eighteen year olds passing out in every conceivable location.

"When do you want to meet up?" Deeks asked. He heard the clanking of plastic on the other end as Paul looked through his closet.

"Party's on Hillard, so, knowing that neighborhood, say, eleven?" Paul answered.

"Sounds good," Deeks confirmed. The men said their goodbyes and hung up. Deeks finished off his beer and pulled another out the fridge. If Paul and this girl hit it off, it was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone! The positive feedback for this story has been overwhelming. Thank you! I haven't committed myself to anything as long as this in a while, and your kind reviews and encouragement, coupled with my absolute love of Densi, has given me more motivation to write than I know what to do with. I'm going to try putting myself on a schedule of updating every Sunday, so keep your eyes peeled for next week's chapter and you have permission to scold me if it's not up then.

I had a question or two regarding the ages of our characters: Deeks and Paul are 24/25, and finishing up law school. Kensi and Monica are 21, in their final year of their undergraduate degrees. Canonically, the year would be 2003, but I've used some creative license to modernize it a little bit.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

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><p>Kensi and Monica arrived to the party early; the house belonged to a friend of Monica's and she'd offered to help set up. After greeting the host, who Kensi knew only by acquaintance, they started to push furniture against the walls and stock the large buckets of ice that had been set out on the back deck. Kensi was checking the connections between the iPod dock and the large speakers that had been placed on the deck when a shadow blocked the small amount of light she was using to see.<p>

"You want me to take a look at that?" A warm male voice said above her. Kensi turned and looked up at the guy standing over her. His dark hair flopped in his eyes and his smile was very white against his tan, clean shaven skin. Kensi couldn't deny that he was attractive, but he had also very obviously been staring at her butt a second before she caught his eye. She straightened up quickly.

"Nope," she said cheerfully," Everything looks good."

"You sure? I mean, those wires can be a little tricky if you don't know what you're doing."

Kensi prickled. She was perfectly aware of what she was doing and this guy's assumption that she was incapable of hooking up a sound system coupled with his very obvious roving eyes grated on her nerves. She smiled at him, ready to give him a pass. She opened her mouth to say that she was sure it was fine, but the guy had already bent down to check the connection himself.

"The AV cord has to be hooked into the dock itself," he said. Kensi put her hands on her hips and waited for him to be done. "You actually get a clearer sound and more bass if you…" He trailed off as he saw that Kensi had rewired the amp to do just that. He turned and looked at her as if seeing her the first time. "How'd you know how to do that?" He asked in amazement, and a little irritated.

Kensi shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not that hard."

The guy looked back at Kensi's handiwork and muttered, more to himself than to Kensi, "It took me weeks to figure that out."

Kensi tried to hide her smirk, and she was sure she would have started laughing at the guy's dumbfounded expression if Monica hadn't called her back inside. Kensi walked away, leaving the guy still crouched down by the speaker.

"Who was that?" Monica asked when Kensi met her at the back door of the house. "He's cute!"

Kensi shrugged and said, "Some guy who thought I couldn't hook up the speakers."

Monica smirked at her friend and said, "I'm guessing you showed him up." Kensi smiled, not having to affirm the other girl's assumption. Monica laughed and said, "You always leave them stunned, Blye."

Kensi laughed with her friend. The doorbell rang and music started to pump through the speakers. The host's girlfriend passed by with a tray full of shots, and Monica nabbed two and handed one to Kensi. "To senior year?"

"To senior year," Kensi said and the girls downed their shots. Kensi felt the burn in the back of her throat and the tiny buzz of alcohol as the first drink hit her system. It took a lot more than this to get her drunk, and she wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but a buzz never hurt, especially if it made her forget why she hated parties.

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><p>Deeks and Paul walked up the front sidewalk of the house. Music blared from every window and door of the two-story house, all of which were thrown wide open. Drunken students roamed up and down the sidewalks and street in varying degrees of inebriation; Greek row was the next street over and since it was the last weekend before classes started, it seemed every undergraduate was out to celebrate.<p>

Paul was fidgeting slightly, flipping his phone between his fingers. He'd met this girl over the summer when she and her friends had come to the surf shop Paul worked at looking for lessons. Paul was enamored, and had told Deeks about their first lesson with him as her teacher a few dozen times. Any normal person would have been irritated at this point with Paul's crush on this girl, but Deeks just smiled at his friend and shook his head. He would have teased any other guy, maybe made a crude joke, but with Paul, Deeks was a different person. For as laid back as Paul was, he was as fragile and sensitive as Deeks was guarded, and teasing him about something as monumental as meeting a girl was to him was bound to hurt the guy.

Deeks couldn't always shelter his best friend, though, and he said what any wingman would have told his friend, "Chill, dude. Don't let her see you sweat."

Paul didn't acknowledge Deeks' words, but he stilled his hands, holding his phone firmly in one fist. The men reached the wide open front door just as a girl staggered out with a hand to her mouth. It was barely midnight, yet she pushed past them and proceeded to vomit in the bushes next to the front stoop. Deeks sighed again in resignation. _So it's going to be one of those kinds of parties_.

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><p>Two drinks held above the heads of partygoers, Kensi sidestepped her way through the throngs of drunken students to reach the back door and the blessedly fresh air. It was a warm night, and her hair was already starting to curl at her temples as a result of the humidity within the house. So much for Monica's products and heat appliances.<p>

As she reached the back porch, Kensi looked around for Monica, but couldn't find her anywhere. A couple guys were screwing with their iPods over by the dock, having designated themselves the DJs for the night. They had figured out a way to mix songs from each iPod to create remixes, and they were actually pretty good.

A couple of girls, obviously underage and inexperienced with alcohol, were attempting to play beer pong, having been coerced into it by the host and his rather disgusting frat buddies. Their whoops and laughter filled up the space, leaving little room for other conversation.

People sat in the small backyard and on the back deck, all with drinks in their hands and some were smoking. Kensi hated the smell of cigarette smoke. It felt unhealthy just to watch the gray haze float through the air, visible against the colored string lights strung around the railings of the deck. Yet, for as much as she hated it, Kensi had never thought she might miss it. Jack had started smoking when he'd been in Afghanistan. He said it kept his nerves in check, and Kensi didn't argue with that, but she still hated that he did it. He never smoked in the house, but the smell still infiltrated all of his clothes, and Kensi had to tamp down on her irritation whenever she kissed him. When he'd left, and Kensi was still raw from grief, she would smell his clothes, desperate to hold on to him, even with a smell that made her want to vomit. She'd since stopped doing that, but the boxes in her closet still smelled faintly of cigarettes, and every time Kensi caught a whiff of it, she had to fight to keep the memories at bay.

Kensi took a deep breath and pushed back the onslaught of emotions. She finally spotted Monica at the bottom of the stairs. She was animatedly in conversation with a guy Kensi recognized from a forensics lab she had taken last semester. Drinks more firmly in hand now that she had room to move, Kensi descended the steps until she was right next to Monica. The other girl took her drink without looking away from the guy she was talking to. The guy, obviously not as involved in the conversation as Monica was, looked over at the new member of their party. He smiled when he saw Kensi, a normal reaction when guys saw her. Kensi found it irritable and little embarrassing. It wasn't her fault she had good genetics and she definitely didn't want to be noticed all the time. It made going about life a little more difficult, especially at the base, where the majority of the people she trained with were men.

"Hey," the guy said, interrupting Monica, much to her annoyance. When she saw Kensi, she rolled her eyes, knowing the effect the other girl had on men, and not begrudging her for it. The guy held out his hand, "I'm Derek."

Kensi shook his hand back briefly, "Kensi."

"We had a lab together, didn't we? Dr. Lipton?"

"I believe we did. I was just coming down to give Monica her drink and now I'm headed back up. It was nice to officially meet you," Kensi told Derek. She smiled at them both and walked away, catching Monica's grateful expression before she turned back to Derek, who was still watching Kensi. Monica picked up her conversation right where she left off and Kensi smiled at her friend's resilience with men, even if they weren't as interested as she was.

Kensi reached the top of the stairs and took a sip of her drink, looking around at the chaos that ensued. The house was full to its max, and the party spilled out into the street. Girls without their shoes clung to each other as they gripped their drinks and staggered in between the houses to Greek row. Some guys were playing beer pong on the hood of a car parked in the street. It was fully past midnight now, and Kensi could see the glow of Los Angeles in the distance against the dark sky. There were no stars visible; it was cloudy and humid, threatening to rain. She was sticky with sweat and spilled alcohol, and as irritating as that should have been, she really didn't care. Why bother if there was no one to impress?

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><p>Paul had yet to find his date, and Deeks was starting to feel the slight tinge of irritation at this girl. He hadn't really wanted to come to this party in the first place, but here he was, waiting to be wingman to his best friend who was seemingly being stood up. He held a beer in his hand, the condensation from the ice bucket the only thing cool in the otherwise stifling house.<p>

He'd talked to a few girls, let them put their hands on his arm and giggle at his charm. He'd even danced with one, a blond petite thing named Olivia, who was just shy of drunk, but still aware of herself enough to not grind on him embarrassingly. Deeks had appreciated that. What he hadn't appreciated had been the fact that she was eighteen.

Now, another girl seemed to have spotted him and was headed his way. Determined not to have another clearly-out-of-high-school alcoholic hanging on him, Deeks made his way toward the back door of the house. He slipped in between tightly-packed people, and breathed in deeply when he reached the outside air. He took a swig of his beer and turned to find that his pursuer was nowhere to be found.

Smiling at his own small triumph, Deeks nearly ran into the girl who was leaning against the railing, watching the party that spilled out of the front side of the house. She looked up in surprise and took a step back. "Sorry," Deeks apologized sincerely. "Didn't see you there."

And he was surprised he hadn't. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than him, and lean. She looked like a supermodel, her legs going on for days and long, tapered fingers that wrapped around her cup. Her face was what sold him, though. She was beyond beautiful. Framed by dark curls, the sharp angles of her face threw shadows across her skin from the colored lights that wrapped around the deck. Her dark eyes were in shadow, but they were shaped exotically, the whites highlighted by the deep tan in her skin. Her eyes were guarded and a little surprised. They were strong, and Deeks knew that even if he was able to get her to flirt back, this girl was not one to be trifled with. She was intelligent, something a lot of the girls at this party were not, and she didn't take anybody's shit. He knew instantly that this girl was special, and not one to be passed up.

The girl stared back at him, her eyes becoming even more guarded the longer he looked at her. She started to back away, a look of wariness in her beautiful face.

"It's fine," she said shortly.

Momentarily forgetting why he had apologized, Deeks pulled himself together. He donned his most charming smile. "Sure I can't get you a drink to apologize?"

The girl raised an eyebrow and held up her plastic cup. "Got one already, thanks."

Deeks tamped down on the instinct to flirt outrageously, which usually worked for him. It wouldn't work on this woman, though, he knew.

"I can't get you a _good_ drink? I know I'm sick of warm, flat beer, and it seems to me you've been here longer, so you're probably more fed up than I am. I know a guy who lives here. He's a douche, but he has good liquor, and I know where he keeps it."

"You'd steal a guy's good alcohol?" She asked incredulously. But if Deeks wasn't mistaken, he did see a small glimmer of interest in her eyes.

"I'd say I'm collecting on a favor. I helped him pass Family Psychology," Deeks explained.

He watched her think it over, her brow furrowing as she contemplated the morality of the offer. As no-nonsense as she seemed, Deeks couldn't read her like her could most girls—or people, really. He had yet to figure out if she was a straight arrow or willing to let loose a little.

She proved to be the latter when she shrugged and said, "Sure." She held her hand out as if to say, lead the way, and Deeks did just that.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has followed and favorited this story! And the reviews are just so kind. I wish I could give you all hugs and cookies to show my appreciation. The best I can do, however, is give you another chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

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><p>Kensi was certainly not ready to get into anything with anybody right now. She just wanted to finish out her senior year and graduate without drama. It was simple and easy.<p>

This guy was really just offering her a better drink than the stale keg-fed plastic cup in her hand. If he offered anything more, Kensi had no problem turning him down. He was undeniably good looking, and charming, yeah, but Kensi Blye was not the type of girl to fall for charm.

She mentally kicked herself. Why was she reminding herself of these things? She'd been repeating the rules to herself since Jack left: No boys. Focus on school, training, and spending time with friends before they all went their separate ways after graduation.

Yet Kensi followed the guy—she didn't know his name—through the throngs of coeds, all in some state of inebriation. Kensi noticed that the girls' eyes followed him through the crowd, unbeknownst to him. He was probably one of those guys that had one-night stands every weekend and left the girl without a number or another word. She knew the type. Before Jack, she _was_ the type. Now, well, she didn't know what type she was.

She didn't get a chance to figure it out, however, when a hand grasped her wrist, pulling her up short. Kensi turned, tensed to shake off some handsy guy, but it turned out to be Monica. "Kensi!" She exclaimed, stumbling a bit. Her sweaty hand circled Kensi's wrist, and her other hand was holding a red plastic cup, out of which liquid sloshed when she waved her arm in wide gesture. "Are you having fun?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Kensi looked over her shoulder for the guy, who had disappeared into the crowd.

She turned back to her friend. Monica was practically hanging on Kensi's arm and she leaned in close, her breath hot on Kensi's face. She whispered in Kensi's ear, "Jennifer's mad at me." She drew out the last syllable in a whine, making Kensi back away from the grating sound.

Kensi sighed, "Why is she mad at you?"

Monica huffed exasperatedly, "I don't _know_." She gestured wildly, spilling more of her drink. She looked down at her soaked hand and then into her cup. She drained the last of her drink, which Kensi now realized was definitely not beer, and threw the cup at a table a few feet away, missing it by quite a bit. Monica shrugged and then looked at Kensi. "She was yelling. It's not like I _wanted_ her boyfriend to grope me."

Kensi was starting to realize that Monica was not as drunk as she was acting. This was her MO: get slightly drunk, yet act wasted. Kensi had no idea why she acted this way, even though it had been like this since they met their first week of college. At first Kensi had thought it was meant to attract guys, but while Monica was undoubtedly boy-crazy, she had more dignity than that. And as close as they had grown over the past three years—nearly like sisters, to use the cliche—that was one thing Kensi just could not figure out about her friend.

As usual, Monica could tell that Kensi had figured out her act, and she rolled her eyes. But just because she wasn't plastered did not mean that she wasn't drunk. Monica stumbled a little when she backed away from Kensi. "She really is mad at me."

"But I thought you guys were just getting over the Adam thing."

Monica waved her hand dismissively, "You know Jen, she's always mad at me for something." She looked over her shoulder and then leaned in conspiratorially, "She's sleeping with Adam again, so I'm not surprised Landon is looking elsewhere, even though I'm totally not interested."

Kensi just smiled and shook her head at her friend. Monica laughed and then nudged Kensi. "How about you? How's your night going?"

Kensi shrugged.

"Oh, come on. I saw you with that surfer guy."

"It's not like that."

"Kensi! He's so hot! Why didn't you go for it?" Monica threw her hands out and almost hit a girl in the head. The girl gave her a dirty look and backed away with her friend. Monica didn't even notice.

"Because I'm not looking for anything right now. And because you grabbed me before he could show me where the real bar is."

Monica's smile slipped. "Oh, sorry."

Kensi raised any eyebrow.

"For not letting you get a decent drink," Monica clarified in mock irritation. "Look, I haven't tried to set you up with anyone since Jack because I respected that you need time to heal. But Kensi, it's a new school year. We're seniors! Why not try to get back into it? There is not a single guy on this campus who would say no to a date with you. Even the gay ones."

Kensi smiled slightly and shook her head. "I'm just not looking to start a relationship. Finish school, finish training-,"

"- and get the job," Monica finished for her. "I know. God. But can't you at least try dating?"

Kensi didn't want to have this conversation, especially at a packed house party. It was growing late, and while the party was still in full swing, Kensi was getting tired. "Monica," she started.

"Fine…okay, whatever," the other girl conceded. She looked around at the party and then back at Kensi. "You ready to go? This is ridiculous; I don't know how the freshmen find out about these things. It's not like they know anybody."

"I'd bet Landon and his buddies invited them," Kensi said. Monica snorted at that and turned, grabbing Kensi's hand as they wove their way through the crowd.

As they left the house, Kensi looked behind her, hoping to catch a glimpse of the scruffy blond mop of hair, but only seeing a mass of teased and highlighted heads instead.

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><p>He'd lost the girl a while ago. She'd melded into the crowd, something he wouldn't think would be easy for someone like her, but she just kept surprising him. <em>The biggest surprise would be if I knew her name<em>, Deeks thought wryly to himself.

Deeks' phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out. Paul's name flashed across the screen, and a little envelope told him he had a text message.

_Where are you?_

Deeks was in the kitchen, and he told Paul so. A few minutes later, Paul appeared in the kitchen, looking glum.

"She's not here."

Deeks patted his friend on the back, "I'm sorry, man."

Paul sighed. "The thing is, I thought this one was for real. We had so much in common, you know? And it was so easy to talk to her…"

Deeks just nodded. He was used to riding the waves of Paul's near-misses with women. He was consistently being stood up, for seemingly no other reason than he was a nice guy. Girls usually met him at the surf shack, thinking he was cool and laid back. And he was, when he was in his element near the water. But when he got around to actually asking a girl out, Paul was so nervous and such a nice guy that girls either got scared off or they realized he wasn't the chill surfer guy they thought he would be. It was beyond irritating. Deeks just wish they would see Paul for who he really was: a sensitive, ambitious guy who just wanted a little love in his life. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

Deeks really didn't want the answer to that question. It was too insulting to Paul.

"You'll find her one day. This just wasn't the right one," Deeks consoled his friend.

"Yeah, I guess," Paul replied, a grimace pulling its way onto his face. "Do you just wanna go home? This party's really lame."

"I couldn't agree more," Deeks answered.

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><p>The first day of classes dawned bright, hot, and humid. Kensi, however, woke up far earlier than the sun was supposed to rise. She was drenched in sweat, even with the window wide open and fan pointed at her bed on full blast. It didn't help that she'd had another nightmare.<p>

After her dad had died, Kensi didn't sleep a full night for almost a year, imagining various ways that the car wreck could have happened, and then dreaming about them. She was torturing herself, and her therapist told her so, after CPS found her living on the streets and sent her to live with friends of her dad's. After she assimilated into their family, had a good bed to sleep in, and was well fed, the dreams started to fade. They went away completely once she met Jack, and came back when he left on tour, but this time, she was imagining Jack's death instead of her father's. And then he left, and Kensi went through a bout of insomnia during the spring semester, unable to sleep because she became so afraid of the force of the dreams that she wouldn't sleep. They were only just starting to fade again, but tonight—or this morning, she guessed—something must have triggered it. Probably the alcohol, Kensi reasoned.

She decided not to go back to sleep, deeming it too futile in the heat and her state of mind. Instead, she dressed in her workout clothes, scarfed down a banana, left a note for Monica, and drove down to the beach for a run.

When Kensi was younger, and her dad was still alive, they'd moved around a lot, as most armed forces families did. They'd stayed on the west coast though, to stick close to her dad's tactical team, Kensi guessed. Regardless of where they ended up, there was always water. Kensi took comfort in the ocean being so close; it meant she was somehow close to home, close to him. Her dad loved the water, and he'd taken every opportunity possible to take Kensi to the beach when she was young. She'd learned to swim in the waves of the Pacific, and their house at Pendleton had been on a cliff overlooking the sea. It was Kensi's favorite house they'd lived in for that very reason. It was also the happiest her parents had been, so there was that, too.

When she took to the streets, Kensi stayed close to water. It was too easy to get lost in the city and caught up in the politics of gangs and cartels. And then CPS found her and sent her to the other side of the mountains, and Kensi felt boxed in by land, unable to escape. That's why she had chosen this school that was so close to the ocean: As transient as water was, it was Kensi's anchor.

Now, she pulled into the parking lot at the beach. It was mostly empty, except for a few early morning surfers, their towels littering the sand. It was still dark, though thin tendrils of light were starting to come up over the mountains. It would be even hotter once the sun came up, Kensi realized. The only light on the beach came from the surf shack at the north end of the sand. Kensi thought she remembered that they served coffee to the surfers, and made an amazing smoothie.

She dropped her towel and water in the sand and started to stretch. Her hair was already sticking to her neck and face, and Kensi readjusted her headband. She ran and did drills for nearly an hour before the heat became too much. The sand was sticking to her arms and legs; not an inch of her body wasn't slick with sweat. She wiped a hand across her forehead and felt the grittiness of the sand cling to her face.

Kensi still had an hour or two before her first class, but she decided it was probably time to be getting back. The water looked so inviting, though, so she took off her shoes and waded in, the cool wetness drawing her body temperature down a little. She was up to her knees when she looked out over the waves. A few guys were surfing in the early September waves. It wouldn't be too long before the waves were at their highest, the Santa Anas spurring them on, and making the beach crazy busy in the mornings.

Kensi sighed. She liked the beach quiet, with her and the few hardcore guys who surfed every morning. The beach bunnies and wannabes always came out in the fall, thinking they could take advantage of the benefits of the high waves, whether it be for surfing practice or "working out", which was more like taking stock of the half-naked guys in the water.

Kensi waded back to the sand and walked barefoot up the beach towards the surf shack. She'd decided to treat herself to a smoothie, since it was so hot. That, and she just wasn't ready to leave yet.

She always felt closer to her dad when she was at the beach. Kensi didn't believe in spirits and higher beings, but his memory just felt stronger with the salt-tinged breeze blowing her hair out of her face. It felt like he was with her, if that was possible. And today especially—her first day of the last year of college—it felt significant, and like something she would want to share with him, if he was still alive.

When Kensi approached the surf shack, the guy behind the counter had his back turned, his wild hair was haloed by the light behind him. The beach was still clinging to night, the gray light only just started to bring out the colors in things, so the shack was still the brightly lit.

"Hey," Kensi greeted the oblivious employee. He turned, startled.

"Hey. Sorry. Didn't see you there," the guy replied. He was scruffy, the surfer type, obviously. But his open face didn't mark him as the pretentious "dude, that's so rad" SoCal guys. He seemed too nice for that. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you guys still have those smoothies? The lime and raspberry ones?"

He smiled an easy, shy smile. "Of course. What size?"

"Medium, please."

"Coming right up." The guy turned and began throwing ingredients in the blender. He turned back to her, "Milk?"

Kensi scrunched her nose. "No, thanks."

The guy started the blender and looked out across the waves, watching the surfers for a few moments before her turned off the machine and poured it into a plastic cup with a cap on it. He handed it to Kensi, who patted herself down before realizing she didn't have her wallet.

"Shoot, I left my money in the car. Be right back," she told him. She took off across the sand, jogging lightly. After retrieving her wallet, she slowed her pace, walking back. She noticed that a surfer had come up to the shack and he and the guy behind the counter were having an animated conversation.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Deeks greeted Paul, coming out of the water with his board still strapped to his ankle. His hair flopped wetly into his eyes and Deeks shook it out of his face.<p>

"Hey," Paul said. He stood up and turned away from putting something in the fridge. "Good waves?"

Deeks unstrapped his board and leaned it against the shack. He unzipped his wetsuit and peeled it down to his waist, all the while saying, "Yeah. They'll get better over the month though. Wait until the winds come in. Think they'll get as big as last year?"

Paul seemed distracted when he said, "Maybe."

"What's up?"

"Did you see that girl?" Paul asked immediately, the words bursting out of him.

"What girl?"

"The one who was just here. She's getting money for her smoothie. She'll be back in a minute."

Deeks grinned, "Wow, you moved on fast."

Paul colored slightly. "She's not like the one from last night, Marty. This one's amazing. Sexiest woman I've ever seen."

"Since when do you put the most stock in sexiness?" Deeks asked teasingly. He reached across the counter and helped himself to the coffeepot and a cup. He poured himself the drink and took a sip.

"I don't," Paul retorted. "That's just the first impression. Hey, she's coming back."

He nodded over Deeks' shoulder and Deeks turned to look, but Paul grabbed him and said, "Don't look! She'll think we're talking about her."

"We a_re _talking about her," Deeks pointed out, but he did as his friend said.

"Talk me up?" Paul asked quietly and desperately. His usual ease was again being disrupted by spotting a girl. Deeks caught himself from telling the other man to chill, and he nodded instead.

"And Marty? Tone down on the charm, okay? I think I might actually have a shot with this one," Paul said even more quietly. Deeks raised an eyebrow at him, but Paul didn't even notice. He was smiling over Deeks' shoulder.

Deeks turned and there she was. The girl from the party. She was wearing running clothes. Shorts bared her long, athletic legs, and she wore a loose gray t-shirt with USMC emblazoned on the front. Her hair was falling messily out of her ponytail and sticking to her face in the heat, despite the slight breeze coming off the water. Her cheeks were flushed in a post work-out rush. She looked even more beautiful than she did last night.

She came up, recognition lighting in her eyes when she saw Deeks.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," she replied.

They looked at each other for a moment before Paul piped up. "Do you know each other?"

The girl shook her head, shrugged, and came closer. "Not exactly," she said, handing a few bills to Paul. He turned and grabbed her smoothie from the fridge. He put it on the counter and the girl slid it toward her. Paul watched her all the while, Deeks noticed. Man, he had it bad. _Well_, he conceded, _he'd be blind not to._

"We met at a party last night," she explained, seemingly oblivious to Paul's gaze. She turned toward Deeks. "And I never got your name. Kensi Blye," she said, holding out her hand.

_Kensi._ "Marty Deeks," Deeks said, shaking her hand. "Nice to finally meet you," he said, grinning.

He looked over her shoulder at Paul, who was frowning.

"Sorry about leaving you hanging last night," Kensi said. Paul's frown deepened. "I got held up."

Deeks shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He looked at Paul again. "Hey, have you met my buddy Paul?"

Kensi turned to Paul. She smiled at him, a dazzling smile. It nearly knocked Deeks over and he wasn't even the one it was directed at. Paul was floored. Deeks watched the infatuation become even more embedded in his friend's mind and grimaced slightly.

"Hey, Paul. Kensi," she held her hand out and Paul shook it wordlessly, though he smiled. "Thanks for the smoothie."

"Uh, yeah. No problem," Paul answered. He was trying too hard to be conversational, Deeks noticed. "Do you come here often?" Deeks cringed internally.

Kensi raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering slightly. "No. Not too much. Busy, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. Do you go to the university?"

Kensi nodded. Deeks couldn't tell if his friend knew how uncomfortable this conversation was, or if he was still trying out of desperation. Either way, it was incredibly awkward.

But Paul continued. "Us too. We're at the law school. How about you?"

Kensi glanced at her watch, which did not go unnoticed by Paul. His eager attempt at conversation had obviously gone stale. "Um, forensics and criminology," Kensi answered, still looking at her watch. She looked up and said,"Speaking of, I am going to be late to my first class if I don't head back now."

Kensi turned her dazzling smile on Paul and Deeks and said, "It was nice to meet you. Both of you. Thanks again for the smoothie." She said this last part to Paul and then jogged across the sand toward the parking lot, leaving both men staring after her.

* * *

><p>I sense some discontent forming between Paul and Deeks! Check back next Sunday to see what happens!<p>

Please continue to review. This is all a big learning experience for me, so critiques are very helpful for me to write what you, the readers, want to read. Kind words are always motivating, as well!


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, everyone! I hope your week has gone well. Mine has been super busy, what with school, work, and summer job interviews, but I still did my best to make time for writing. This chapter is the last of the introductory chapters; I hope to get the actual plot off and running in next week's installment, so stay tuned!

Enjoy, and don't forget to favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

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><p>Paul immediately whirled on Deeks. "What the hell? You know her?"<p>

Deeks sat down on one of the stools at the counter and refilled his coffee. "It's like she said: sort of. We met at that party last night. I offered her a drink that wasn't gross beer, and then she got held up by something and I didn't see her again." He looked at his friend apologetically. "I didn't think I'd ever see her again, much less here."

Paul sat down on a stool on his side of the counter, looking defeated. He put his head in his hands and mumbled, "Now that she's seen you, I might as well not exist."

Deeks groaned, "Come on, man. You have to stop thinking that way. There is no way that girl was going to hook up with me last night. Maybe you actually have a shot."

Paul shook his head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you'd met a girl like _that_."

"Like I said, I didn't think I'd ever see her again."

Another surfer came up to the counter—a regular—and Paul stood up to make his coffee. All three men kept quiet, and the only sound was the whir of the coffee grinder and the rush of the waves coming in. The calls of seagulls punctuated the silence.

After the surfer had left with his coffee and a murmured 'thanks', Paul spoke again. "You really think I have a chance?" He asked hopefully.

Deeks nodded, knowing he was a good liar and hating himself for it. He'd take all the blame on himself if Paul got hurt pursuing this girl. Kensi.

"Yeah, but dude, you need to work on your conversational skills. That was the most awkward thing I've ever witnessed," Deeks said with a small grin, trying to break the tension between them.

Paul scratched the back of his head a laughed softly. "Yeah…it was, wasn't it? She just made me so nervous."

"Don't let her see you sweat," Deeks repeated his line from last night. Paul nodded, seemingly committing this motto to memory.

"That is if you ever see her again," Deeks added. He knew it wasn't encouraging, but part of him—the selfish part—really didn't want this girl slip through his fingers.

Paul waved this away, his confidence returning as the lights inside the shack turned off automatically as the sun finally cleared the mountains. "We go to the same school. I'll see her again."

Deeks only smiled in encouragement, hating himself even more.

* * *

><p>Kensi parked on the street in front of her apartment building and got out of her car. The sun was blindingly bright and reflected across the water. Even as high up as she was—the apartment was built on one side of a slope of road, the other dropped steeply down to the water—the reflection hurt Kensi's eyes. God, it was hot. The car's thermometer had said it was nearly a hundred degrees, not entirely unusual for Southern California, but the humidity was making it so much worse. They'd be getting rain soon, Kensi thought, but the mountains were obviously keeping the clouds from moving in.<p>

Kensi took the steps to her and Monica's apartment. She still had a third of her smoothie left and the condensation from the cool drink was making the plastic cup slick. She fumbled with her keys at the door and dropped the cup. The pink liquid splatted out of the cup as it hit the floor, spreading across the tile. Kensi sighed in exasperation. She forced the door open—it tended to stick on the frame—and dropped her keys in the bowl by the door on her way to the kitchen.

"Hey!" Monica called from her bathroom. "How was your workout?"

"Good," Kensi called back. "It's too hot outside." She grabbed some paper towel off the counter and headed back to the door.

Monica stuck her head out of the bathroom door. Half of her head was a mess of curls, and the other half looked like she'd attempted to straighten it, but had failed miserably. It was starting to crimp up again. "You're telling me. This humidity is ridiculous."

Kensi stifled a laugh at Monica's hair, earning a glare from the other girl. She pulled back into the bathroom and Kensi heard the spritz of a bottle, presumably Monica spraying more product into her hair. Kensi, having a similar hair texture, knew it wouldn't work.

She stepped out into the hall and knelt down, mopping up the mess of melted smoothie on the floor. She really did not have time for this. Her stop at the surf shack had cost her more time than she thought she had, and now she would be scrambling to shower and eat. Not a good way to start the first day of classes.

She did her best, but the floor would probably be sticky until maintenance cleaned it up. Kensi stood up and shook her head at the floor. She already knew it was going to be one of _those_ days.

Kensi hurriedly threw away the paper towel and rushed into her bathroom. She turned on the shower and let it warm up while she peeled off her sweaty, sandy clothes. She shook her hair out of the ponytail and stepped in, the still-cool water making her shiver for a second as it hit her flushed skin.

Kensi showered and thought about how weirdly coincidental it had been that she'd run into that guy at the beach. Marty, and his shy friend Paul. If she told Monica about the encounter, she already knew the girl's response: "It's gotta be fate." Monica loved love stories. She was as pragmatic as Kensi, knowing that soul mates probably didn't exist and love at first sight was pretty much a myth. But she liked the idea of romance, and a chance meeting like this would send her through the roof, only half teasing in her sappy, romantic comedy quips.

Kensi laughed to herself, and for the second time today, thought about the significance that the day held. This time next year, she and Monica would probably be living in other places, working on different careers, only keeping in touch over emails, phone calls, and meetings over coffee. Kensi could already feel all of it slipping away, losing her best friend to the 'real life' that lay beyond college, and it saddened her.

It also terrified her. What would she do without Monica there to fill the silences or make her laugh when the memories started to creep in? Would she be able to cope?

_No_, Kensi thought as she shut off the water. _Stop thinking about that. There's still a whole year to worry about that._

She dried off, or attempted to anyway. The humidity in the air almost seemed to cement the moisture from the shower onto Kensi's skin. She stood in front of the fan in her room and when she was as dry as she was going to get, Kensi threw on a pair of jean shorts and a loose tank top that she vaguely remembered borrowing from Monica quite a while back. Kensi liked it because it didn't cling to her every curve. Monica had bought it because it did, at least in the breast area, and then realized very quickly that it brought on the wrong kind of attention—the kind girls get from older professors and hormonal, perverted teenagers—so she had handed it off to Kensi, who, with a smaller chest, was not in danger of being objectified.

Once she was dressed, Kensi grabbed her backpack and headed out to the conjoined kitchen and living area. Monica had apparently given up on her hair. It was now teased into a high ponytail and she had weighed it down with enough product that the curls looked sleek and loose rather than frizzy. She looked put-together, as always.

Kensi laughed, though, when she realized Monica was also wearing something borrowed. This time, it was from Kensi's closet. It was a long tunic top. At least, on Kensi, it was. On Monica's shorter frame, it made a sort of dress, though she was wearing shorts underneath, the hems only just visible as she raised her arms to open a cupboard in the kitchen.

"What-," Monica started incredulously, but as she turned around, she laughed too. Still smiling, she said, "Hey, whatever works, right?"

Kensi set her backpack down and shrugged, "It looks better on you anyway."

"Likewise." The girls grinned at each other. "Hey, last first day," Monica said brightly, returning to making her coffee. She couldn't live without the stuff.

Kensi's smile faltered. "Yeah. I can't believe how quickly it's flown by."

Monica looked up, sadness tinging her expression. "I know. It's like yesterday we were at that stupid party on the beach and you nearly murdered me."

Kensi giggled. "You were asking for it. Good thing Jack didn't flirt back or I would have murdered both of you," she teased.

"What can I say? I was drunk and naïve. Not a good combination." Monica finished with her coffee and poured it into a travel mug, topping it off with creamer and sugar. "And you can thank me for testing him out. You got piece of mind and a best friend out of the deal." Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand when she saw Kensi's face, immediately realizing what she had said.

"Oh, my god, Kens, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Kensi tried to act nonchalant, waving off her friend's apologies and looking down to fiddle with her backpack to hide how she needed to take a few deep breaths. _Piece of mind_. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're obviously not fine, and I'm an asshole." Monica came around the counter to stand next to Kensi, who was still focused on the zipper on her backpack.

Kensi finally looked at her friend, trying to keep her breathing even and her emotion under control. "No, you're not. And I _am_ fine. I just need a second, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, that's okay. Just, you know, I'm sorry. I really need to work on thinking before speaking." Monica stammered. She never stammered, never got nervous. And she rarely walked on eggshells around Kensi. Only with Jack. Everyone was nervous about bringing up Jack. At times, Kensi appreciated that they wanted to respect her feelings, but other times, she just wanted them to say what they were thinking.

Monica hovered nervously for a moment, fidgeting in a very un-Monica-like way, before heading back to the kitchen.

The words had hit Kensi in the chest, winding her. She had absolutely no piece of mind. She'd thought she did. Meeting Jack had been like a breath of air after years of drowning in her grief over her dad. She felt safe with him, and then he'd proposed, and everything felt right and like it was going to stay that way. Now, Kensi didn't believe in loyalty. Even Monica would be leaving her soon.

_God, Kens, stop. It's only the first day. _

Kensi took a deep breath and set her shoulders. Normally, she'd paste her brightest smile on, but Monica would see right through it. Instead, Kensi went around the counter and stood next to Monica, slotting two halves of a bagel into the toaster as she did.

Monica looked over at her. "Good?"

"Yeah."

"Good. When's your first class?" Monica was good at changing the subject, and knowing when to leave it alone. Psychology degrees did wonders. Or maybe that was just Monica.

Kensi looked at her watch. "Shit. I'm gonna be late."

She pushed the lever on the toaster up, popping out the not quite toasted bagel and hurriedly smothering peanut butter on it. She grabbed a paper towel and wrapped up the two halves of bagel, rushing around the counter to grab her bag.

"Need a ride?" she asked Monica.

Monica was already grabbing her bag and coffee.

They stopped for a second in the hallway so Monica could lock the door. Kensi backed out of her way and felt her sandal stick to the ground. She pulled it up and looked down at the pinkish stain on the tile, hoping maintenance would be in to clean it up before the end of the day; it was bound to attract ants.

"You ready?" Monica asked.

Kensi smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the last first day of life as she had known it.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is a few days late, but midterms are next week and I've been swamped with schoolwork, which, unfortunately, has to come before anything fun like writing. That aside, I'm really excited to start getting into the meat of the story and developing the relationships a bit more, so please enjoy and don't forget to favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>Kensi was indeed late to her first class. Luckily, she knew the professor, and he only gave her a raised eyebrow before continuing his talk about the syllabus.<p>

She had an hour and a half break between her morning classes and her afternoon lab. There were a handful of food trucks that took up residence on campus during lunch time, and Kensi chose one and ordered a chicken wrap. On impulse, she grabbed a chocolate bar at the register and threw that in her bag as well. Her junk-food jones had tripled in the last year, returning in full force now that she didn't have Jack and his regimented military diet to stick to. It's not like she was unhealthy or anything—she trained almost every day—but she did have a bit of a sweet tooth. It _was_ nice not having someone make her feel bad about it, she guessed. Monica's love for sweets was even worse than Kensi's, if that were possible.

Kensi found a picnic table in the shade of a large tree in the middle of the quad. Academic buildings surrounded the area on three sides. The fourth side was bordered by a street similar to the one Kensi and Monica's apartment was on. The school was situated on a cliff looking out over the ocean. Even though it was far too hot to be spending any period of time outside, Kensi enjoyed watching the water while she ate. It wasn't so bad in the shade, though the humidity was increasingly uncomfortable.

When Kensi was finished, she still had a good hour before her lab was due to start. She opened up her backpack and pulled out the application she'd been working on for NCIS training. It wasn't due for about 8 weeks, but Kensi wanted to finish it and send it in as quickly as possible. The quicker it got into the hands of someone important, the quicker she could be accepted. And this wasn't even the actual job; it was just the training course. She would still have to finish that before she even thought about working as an agent.

The application was taking longer to do than she expected, though. Yes, it was a thick packet of information, background checks, and a number of reference forms, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Kensi had to hide it away whenever anyone came within reading distance. She didn't know why she was keeping it a secret—she'd made it very obvious she was going into a law enforcement career—but even her surrogate family was unaware. And God forbid Monica find out about it. Kensi shared nearly everything with her best friend, but she was afraid of Monica's reaction to this.

Monica was protective of Kensi, even before everything happened with Jack. She was fiercely protective of her friends in general, but Monica's maternal side came out whenever Kensi needed advice or was searching for her next thrill chase. When Kensi told her that she was taking a defensive driving course—meant to enable her to avoid a collision were she to lose control of the car—Monica flipped, claiming it was reckless and unnecessary. Her practicality balanced out Kensi's impulsiveness. Kensi thought she'd make a great cop, but Monica preferred to stick to Psychology, hoping to become a defense lawyer. She said she preferred to uphold the law without guns and car chases. Kensi was totally fine with that, but it was still why she wouldn't tell her she wanted to be a federal agent.

Kensi was in the process of filling out her family history, struggling to come up with everything she remembered about her mom, when a voice over her shoulder made her jump and cover the page with her arm.

"It's a bit early to be applying for summer jobs, isn't it?"

Kensi looked up and saw that it was none other than Marty Deeks. Instead of being half clad in his wetsuit (Kensi had done her best to studiously ignore this at the beach earlier. It didn't keep her from enjoying it, though), he was wearing shorts and flip flops. His white t-shirt highlighted his deep tan and white grin.

Kensi flipped the packet over and said, "Not a summer job. Just paperwork for graduation."

Deeks sat down across the table from her. "Still a little early though."

"You can never finish too early," Kensi replied cheerfully.

Deeks raised an eyebrow and said, "I can think of a few instances where that's not quite true." He grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows.

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Really?" She asked in distaste.

He laughed easily and then pointed at her arm. "Sorry."

Kensi looked down and noticed that there was a line of black on her forearm. She must have drawn on herself when he'd startled her.

"It's fine," Kensi said. She licked her finger and started rubbing at it. The ink only smeared. The humidity did not make it any better, she was sure.

Kensi sighed at it and looked up at him. He was watching her with a strange expression on his face. "What?"

* * *

><p>Deeks had seen her and reacted instantly. He was a friendly guy, and stopping to say hi to someone he knew was natural to him. It was like breathing, really. And there she was, sitting at a picnic table with her head bent over a pack of papers, chewing on the end of her pen. Her ponytail swung over her shoulder, leaving the top of her back bare where the tank top didn't cover. She was even tanner than he was, and her muscles slid underneath her bronzed shoulders when she moved to write something.<p>

Of course he would stop to talk to her. He had to.

And of course, he was too damn friendly for his own good. Or, should he say, Paul's good.

"What?" She asked. He'd been watching her rub away at the mark on her arm that her pen had left when she'd jumped.

_Reel it in, Deeks. _

"It probably won't come off in this heat," he said. He grit his teeth together at how lame that was.

She laughed shortly, "Uh, yeah, I noticed. Don't worry about it. It's my fault I lost control of my own pen." She smiled. It wasn't the bright, friendly smile from earlier in the day. It was sweet…almost. Deeks thought she might protest to being called "sweet".

Regardless of whatever it was, it sent Deeks reeling. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

"So, graduation. You're a senior."

"Yep."

"With forensics and criminology, you're going into law enforcement?"

"Something like that."

"Like what?"

"A cop. Sort of."

"You? A cop?"

She looked affronted, and her eyes instantly hardened as she leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Deeks gestured at her, "I honestly pegged you more as the model-dancer type, but was thinking probably law with your degree. Paralegal?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a glare that burned through him. It was meant to make him back down, but Deeks never backed down. He was a lawyer—almost—after all.

"Do you think people are going to take you seriously looking like that?" He asked, firing back his own judgmental stare. He realized just how deep a hole he was digging, and he was slipping down the side of it quickly. Her expression had hardened into stone.

"What is your problem?" She started packing her papers away, a gigantic stack of them that looked nothing like graduation paperwork.

"Wait. Come on, I was teasing," Deeks lied. He wasn't teasing, it was more like being intentionally mean. What it was, actually, was beyond complicated. He really didn't want to make this girl not like him, but he also wanted to help out Paul. But Deeks didn't know how to do that without being rude. Now he was sitting at the bottom of the hole, scrambling for something to help him climb back up. There was nothing, and she definitely wasn't going to help him.

She laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, if that's what you call teasing, I wonder how you even have friends."

She stood up and turned to walk away, but ran straight into Paul, who held out his hands to steady her. She instantly stepped away, avoiding his touch.

"Hey," Paul said slowly, assessing the tense situation. "What's going on?"

"I was just leaving, actually," Kensi snapped, glaring at Deeks. She hitched her bag over her shoulder and started off across the quad.

Paul looked after her and then stared at Deeks. "What was that?"

Deeks stood and braced his hands on top of the picnic table. A splinter of wood jabbed into his palm. "Start yelling at me." _Might as well make this work in Paul's favor_.

"What? Why? What'd you say to her?"

"Does it matter? Just stick up for her. Loudly, so she can hear you from over there," Deeks said quietly, nodding in the direction Kensi had gone. She had stopped in front of one of the buildings and was talking to another girl. The shorter, curvier brunette kept glancing in Deeks and Paul's direction while Kensi presumably told her what had happened, her arms crossed and her back to the quad.

Paul took a breath and set his shoulders. He had never been a good liar, and his physical preparation almost made Deeks laugh. Almost.

"What the hell, man?" Paul burst out, waving his hands. "Why would you say that?" It was a little exuberant, and in another situation, Deeks might have found Paul's theatrics funny.

Instead, Deeks decided to play the guilty friend, as if he wasn't guilty enough already. He didn't want Kensi to think was a _terrible_ person. "Look man, I don't know. You don't think she looks more like a model than a cop?"

Paul's eyes widened in surprise at this information, but only for an instant before he continued his act. "Why does that matter? Criticizing someone for their career choice is low, Marty, even for you." He was well and truly loud now, attracting the attention of people around the quad. The most important set of eyes was still averted, but her friend was riveted.

Deeks gave his friend a look, narrowing his eyes slightly, but they could talk about the last part of that accusation later. "Don't tell me you don't agree."

"That's not important! God, Marty, get your shit together." Paul seemed truly angry now, as if he had taken everything Deeks had said personally. His eyes were bright with anger, and his voice carried across the quad. And it had finally reached ignorant ears. Or the ears of someone who just couldn't resist.

Kensi's friend was dragging her across the quad toward the men. Kensi was rolling her eyes, but her friend was determined.

There was quite an audience now, Deeks noticed. It was a passing period between classes and people were stopped in groups to watch the drama that was ensuing.

"Monica, stop, this isn't high school," Kensi was complaining. She looked around at the people and said more quietly, "You're making a scene."

Her friend pulled her underneath the tree and stopped them both short. "Surfer boy," she pointed at Deeks, "apologize to Kensi." She gestured between the two. Then she looked at Paul, "Other surfer boy, thanks for sticking up for my friend."

Paul nodded in bewilderment, looking almost afraid of her. Deeks looked at Kensi, who was studiously ignoring him. He didn't really know what to say. Apologizing would be backing down, which he desperately wanted to do, but he also wanted to help out his friend, who so desperately wanted this girl to like him that he'd gone on about her long after she'd left the beach that morning.

Deeks squinted into the sun and then looked back down at Kensi. She wasn't looking at him, but the expectation was clear on her face.

"Dude," Paul prompted.

"Sorry," Deeks said shortly. He wanted to tell her more, but his audience kept him from doing so. "It was inappropriate, what I said."

"You seem to have a habit of saying inappropriate things," Kensi said coolly.

"You're right about that," Paul piped up.

Kensi turned to him, "You didn't have to stick up for me. But thanks." She didn't smile. She barely acknowledged the chivalrous act that Paul had put on for her. She looked at her watch and said, "I have to go to class. I'll see you later?" This last part she addressed to her friend. The other girl nodded and Kensi left without another word, leaving a strange silence behind her.

Her friend was the first to speak. "Monica," she said confidently, holding out her hand to Paul.

"I'm Paul," Paul said, shaking her hand. She smiled at him. It was a genuine smile, not the bright, over-friendly kind that Kensi had given him upon introduction.

"Marty Deeks," Deeks said. Monica didn't make a move to shake his hand. She did, however, give him an appraising look, sweeping him up and down with her eyes.

"You were with Kensi at the party," she said. It wasn't a question.

"That's right," he answered anyway.

"She seemed pretty okay with you there. What'd you say to her?"

"I'd rather not repeat it. I feel bad enough already," Deeks answered. He exhaled and shook his head. "I really am sorry."

Monica held up her hands, "Don't tell _me_. Tell it to her." She shouldered her bag and turned to walk away. She looked over her shoulder at Paul and said, "It was nice to meet you." And then she walked away.

"Marty," Paul groaned.

Deeks looked at his friend accusingly, "'That's low, even for you'? What was that supposed to mean?"

"Don't turn this around on me. What you said to her was wrong," Paul argued.

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect a false insult in the process," Deeks shot back.

Paul started to back down and look guilty. He was non-confrontational to the point of meekness sometimes. He gave in so easily and usually Deeks just sighed and left his arguments at this point, because making Paul feel guilty was not what he was aiming for, but this time, Deeks was so frustrated with himself and the situation that he kept going. "I just insulted a beautiful girl for you so that I would look bad and she'd actually give you a glance. The least you can say is thanks."

Paul's eyes narrowed and his face hardened, but his need for peace won out and he kept quiet. The hurt in his face was obvious though, and Deeks felt even worse than he had a few minutes ago.

"I have to go," Paul finally said. He turned and left Deeks standing alone in the middle of the quad.

* * *

><p>Kensi and Monica didn't see each other for the rest of the day. Monica worked evenings, and Kensi drove down to Pendleton for training every afternoon, and neither made it home until after 8 most nights. It was usually later for Kensi because of the long drive.<p>

Kensi got out of her car and the humidity slammed into her, instantly making her air conditioned skin clammy. She shivered briefly before grabbing her bag from the back and locking her car. She walked up to the building and climbed the stairs. When she reached the front door, she noticed that the smoothie stain from that morning was still there. She rolled her eyes. Of course it was still there. She had no idea why she thought they would clean it up today. Service in this building was crappy at best.

"Hey," Kensi called out as she pushed the door closed behind her and entered the apartment. Monica looked up from her station by the stove, stirring a pot. She waved the wooden spoon she was using, which sent sauce splatting to the floor.

"Shit," she muttered. Kensi laughed and dumped her bag on the ground before meeting Monica in the kitchen.

Monica was wiping up the sauce and Kensi leaned over the pot on the stove, looking in at the spaghetti and meatballs that was cooking. Monica was an excellent cook, which more than made up for Kensi's complete incompetence in the kitchen.

"Oh, my god, Mon, this smells amazing," Kensi moaned.

Monica stood from wiping up the floor and threw the paper towel away. "You'd better not have gotten fast food on the drive back," she said, shuffling Kensi out of the way so she could return to her cooking.

"Nope," Kensi said brightly, hopping up on the counter. "Why in the world would I do that when I have you?"

Monica shot Kensi a look and then rolled her eyes, smiling. "You won't have me forever," she said. "You'd better get used to doing this on your own."

"We are not talking about how it's our last year," Kensi said adamantly, leaning her head back against the cabinets behind her. "I'm not ready for it to end."

Monica tasted the sauce and then added some pepper. She stirred it around a bit and then looked at Kensi. "Aren't you excited to graduate? I'm so ready to get out of this place."

"We have a whole nine months," Kensi whined. "Can't you just enjoy it?"

"Not when I can see my future right in front of me. I'm so sick of school I could puke."

"You're going to law school," Kensi pointed out flatly.

"Not until after I get a job at a firm. Gotta have a way to pay for it."

"You're thinking too far ahead," Kensi sighed.

"What, and these training sessions aren't your way of thinking ahead?" Monica countered. "Oh, I know. You're just scoping out another Marine." She grinned cheekily.

Kensi shook her head and laughed."I meant that you're looking three steps ahead rather than taking things one step at a time. You're getting tunnel vision. Enjoy the moment, isn't that what you keep telling me?"

Monica shrugged, "I'm just really excited about life, you know? I'm ready to be an adult who doesn't have to write papers and live off of minimum wage and loans. And a boyfriend who isn't obsessed with schoolwork would be nice."

"There are guys who aren't obsessed with schoolwork," Kensi said quietly. She'd gone almost all day without thinking about him, why did it have to come up now? Monica's comment about finding another Marine hadn't bothered her, but Kensi had found that the most mundane things drudged up memories and emotions. A certain smell, or the feel of a fabric, or even someone saying something in passing could cause the pang in her chest.

Monica looked at her, slightly pityingly, and then her face brightened up into a mischievous grin. "Yeah, what about those guys today in the quad? They didn't seem all that interested in schoolwork."

Kensi, thankful for the change in subject, rolled her eyes and hopped off the counter. "Don't even start."

Monica giggled. "They seemed interested in one Kensi Blye," she teased. "It's kinda sad they were fighting about it, though."

"They had every right to fight about it," Kensi said, "That Deeks guy insulted me!"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that when a guy likes you, he picks on you?"

"When I was seven. We're adults, he had no reason to treat me like that."

"Ok, but what about the other guy? Paul, right? He's cute, and he stood up for you," Monica pointed out.

Kensi sighed in exasperation. "He's cute, in like, a brotherly way. And he seems nice, but that's about it." She stopped and thought about what she was saying. "Why are we even talking about this? I don't want a boyfriend!"

Monica laughed and turned off the stove. She stirred the pot a little more and then started dishing noodles into two bowls. As she did so, she said, "You should give that Marty guy another chance. He seemed really sorry about it after you left, like he regretted saying that to you. And he's hot, so there's another reason."

Kensi snorted, "Yeah, okay. If I ever see him again. God, I'm so stuck on what he said to me! It's infuriating!"

Monica smiled cheekily and said, "Stuck, smitten… whatever. You sure you aren't stuck on that crazy blond hair or his gorgeous blue eyes?"

Kensi gave her a look and then snatched her bowl off the counter and sat down at the kitchen table. Monica followed her, laughing silently the whole way.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello! I'm sorry that I'm posting late for the second week in a row. I promise I won't make this a habit! But next week is my spring break, and I have absolutely nothing to do besides sit at home and write, so I'm definitely going to make up for my inability to stay on schedule and reward you guys for being patient. Thank you all for the nice comments and reviews; I love hearing what you have to say and that you're all as invested in this story as I am. It makes it easier and much more fun to write, knowing that other people want to read it.

Please enjoy, and keep an eye out for the next few chapters this weekend and next week!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

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><p><em>Eighteen years old. Skinny with a messy head full of brown curls. Quiet, reserved, and altogether unremarkable except for the fact that he was easy to pick on. The other guys in their pre-law program were already betting on how far that Rickards guy could get before he either failed or dropped out. Deeks kept quiet. He didn't like that they picked on the poor guy, but he also wasn't too keen on being a target, so he didn't say anything.<em>

_He already had issues of his own. His mom had up and left the second he turned 18. He'd finished out his last six months of high school, living alone in their tiny apartment. At least she'd paid for the first three months of the year, as usual. It gave Deeks enough time to find a second job in order to cover what she wouldn't be paying from now on. He wasn't surprised that she left. Hell, she could have left years ago. At least she got him this far. The abandonment he should have felt had long since been replaced with bitterness and now, he felt a hollow relief that she had finally left him instead of sticking around to hurl insults and regrets and accusatory looks his way, still blaming him for his father leaving, even 7 years after the fact._

_So, no, he did not want to get involved in the immaturity of his classmates. He had other things to worry about._

_It was the third week into the first semester of his freshman year. He was still trying to balance out two jobs in addition to class, as well as dealing with the financial aid office, which seemed unable to understand that he had applied as a self-paying student with no parental assistance. Unlike the privileged students eating out of their parents' pockets, Deeks was working for his food and education, and it was such an unusual situation here that the financial aid officers just couldn't see how he had no help. _

_Deeks was waiting outside of one of his introductory law classes, rereading the chapter that was assigned for that day. The professor hadn't come to unlock the classroom door yet, so he was camped out on the floor with the battered, used textbook open in his lap. He had a blue highlighter in his hand because the person who owned the book before him had used yellow and highlighted the book to nearly its capacity. It was just one of the many small consequences of being financial instable that he was facing. And it was just plain irritating._

_Deeks looked up and saw that guy, the Rickards guy, sit down across the hall from him. He pulled his own new copy of the textbook out along with an orange highlighter and proceeded to start meticulously highlighting his book in short, quick strokes of the marker. He looked up and caught Deeks watching and smiled tentatively. Deeks nodded back and looked down at his book. _

_A few minutes passed and a few more of their classmates showed up. Most of them had made quick friends with each other and stood talking in groups, laughing raucously about some party that weekend. Deeks had gone to a few parties, mostly the first week of school, but found that it just wasn't his scene and while the girls were cute and the beer was free, it was impossible for him to have that kind of social life along with work and school. _

_"Hey, Deeks, didn't see you there last weekend," one of the guys, Lucas, looked down at Deeks on the floor. He was a bit nicer than the others, but only barely._

_"I had to work, man. You know how it is," Deeks replied. Who was he kidding? Lucas probably had no idea how that was._

_Lucas and the other guys shrugged and then one turned to Rickards. "I didn't see you there either, Rickards. Have a date with your mommy?"_

_Rickards' face turned red and he said quietly, "No."_

_"Well, where were you, then? Stuffed up at home no doubt."_

_"I was at a surfing competition," Rickards answered, again so quietly you could barely hear him. _

_"Oooh," all the other guys chorused. They sounded like a pack of wolves. "Did you place last, as usual, or do you actually have some talent?"_

_Rickards' face went an even deeper shade of red and he opened his mouth to say something. Thankfully, the professor came and unlocked the door, letting the class in and effectively putting a stop to the growing discontent._

_The few girls in their class always filed into the front, though one, Chelsea, had set her eyes on Deeks and always sat in front of him. She knew she was beautiful, and chose periodic moments in class to stretch and let her sweater fall off her shoulders, exposing bare tanned skin. It caused all of the men in the class to look at her, even the professor, and Deeks was no exception. He did not, however, pay her any mind when she tried advances beyond that. Today, she seemed to have decided, was the day that she would further those advances. She made a move to sit next to Deeks, but he sat on the end of the row and nodded at Paul, who took the kind gesture and gratefully sat down in the open seat next to him. Chelsea's look of frustration was obvious when she sat down in her usual seat in front of Deeks, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and huffing in exasperation._

_Rickards was still red in the face and his breathing was forcefully controlled. Deeks looked at him out of the corner of his eye, watching as he calmed down. While the professor busied himself at the front of the class, tampering with the computer and the projector screen, Deeks turned to Rickards and asked, "So what place did you get in that surf comp?"_

_Rickards looked bewildered that anyone had asked him a question and warily, he answered, "Fourth."_

_"Hey, good job man. Just short of a medal. Which comp were you at?"_

_"South Venice Beach Regionals." _

_Deeks nodded. He had heard of that one and a few of his buddies from high school had competed in it. "So you're going on to states? That's really cool."_

_Rickards' face relaxed a little when he realized Deeks was being genuine and he nodded. "Yeah. States are in October. Do you compete?"_

_Deeks shook his head, "No, not enough time. I try to get out on the waves as much as possible though. I saved up for that new Channel Islands board for a year."_

_"Dude, no way. That board is a piece of art," Rickards said. He had perked up now that he was talking about something he knew. The fact that someone was being nice to him probably helped, too._

_"I know," Deeks answered. "And the resistance on it is nonexistent. It's like riding on air."_

_"Shit," Rickards shook his head in admiration. "What I wouldn't give to take a ride on that board."_

_Deeks stayed quiet for a moment, mulling over where to go from here. It didn't take him long, however, before he said, "I try to get out there in the mornings, if you'd want to try it out sometime."_

_"Really?" Rickards asked excitedly. Deeks nodded._

_The professor had finally gotten the technology up and running and the class was quieting down. Deeks held out his hand and introduced himself, "Marty."_

_Rickards shook his hand, "I'm Paul."_

Paul had filled out since then. His height became much more balanced out with some width in the shoulders, evidence of hard work on a surfboard as well as working on building them, which he started doing his and Deeks' sophomore year. He'd gotten Deeks the job at the surf shack, and they'd been pretty much inseparable ever since. Everyone knew that if you invited Deeks, you always got Paul, and vice versa.

Four years could do a lot to a person, and change was inevitable. Paul became more confident, marginally so. Deeks grew comfortable with the acceptance that his mother would never return for him. He took care of himself, and Paul, when he needed it. Paul's parents separated not long after he left for college, his hotshot lawyer father being the playboy he was. His mother moved across the country to pursue her longtime dreams of becoming a stage actress. Paul was the youngest, and he took the divorce personally as his fault. His older sisters were happily settled in at law firms, the oldest having just gotten engaged upon his graduation from high school. His self-esteem was hit hard and Deeks was there to pick up the pieces.

Four years definitely changed a person, and Deeks and Paul had faced the triumphs and pitfalls that growing up in college led to, and they'd been each other's anchors through it all. Grad school had rolled around and it seemed so natural to keep going the way they were going. After all, their university's program was almost exclusively a fast track and the pre-law students continued through the law program, so most had stuck around, Lucas (much nicer after 4 years), Chelsea (Deeks slept with her once their sophomore year, and they were now friends) and all. They'd all be graduating for good come May, off to work in power law firms and internships.

Deeks wondered if his irritation with Paul was less about Kensi and more about the stress that was being pushed on them in their last year. Professors and advisors were constantly telling them they needed to look for jobs and fill out applications and make connections. Mixers with powerful lawyers were set up every few weeks and they were urged to go. Deeks himself didn't know what he wanted. He didn't like the thought of becoming a powerful attorney or someone who did it all for the money. He wanted to help people, and public defender seemed to fit that goal. Paul's expectations, on the other hand, were pretty high. He felt that he had to live up to his father and sisters' reputations and opening his own firm was the way to do that, in his eyes.

Maybe, Deeks thought, they were just becoming different people. They wanted different things, and the argument and jealousy over this one girl, who honestly didn't seem interested in either of them, was possibly just the breaking point.

* * *

><p>Deeks was working the surf shack one afternoon, having just been handed the keys by Paul. It was a week and half after the incident in the quad, and they still weren't speaking. Paul had texted Deeks the day after, not quite apologizing, but acknowledging his fault. Deeks was still angry at that point and didn't respond. He justified leaving Paul hanging as his way of instilling some sort of resilience in his friend. And they were still friends, just friends who were going through a rough patch. It was normal, right?<p>

It was early afternoon, so the beach was fairly quiet with only a young family playing in the shallows and a few surfers getting in some exercise. Mid-September was fast approaching, meaning the arrival of wannabes and beach bunnies, a high time for the business, but hellish for the employees. Deeks was enjoying the last few days of peace and quiet before the crowds.

"No way," a voice echoed from the parking lot, "You were right!"

Deeks looked over and saw that it was Kensi's friend, Monica, stepping out of the driver's side of an old, and very small, silver Lexus. She had on a pair of sunglasses and was adjusting her sundress. She obviously didn't know how loud she was being, because she didn't even notice that Deeks had noticed.

Surprisingly and yet, not so surprising at all, Kensi stepped out of the passenger side. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, the curls dropping down her back. The wind had picked up in the past few days, stirring up the heat that lingered. Rain was forecasted for that night and the next day, promising relief from the humidity and heat. The breeze lifted some strands from her ponytail and blew them over her shoulder. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and Deeks could see the straps of a bikini tied around her neck.

She looked over and squinted in his direction. Deeks looked out over the water, mulling over what to do or say. He didn't have to make a decision however, when Monica started striding across the sand towards him. Kensi lingered behind, and then slowly followed her friend.

She was still a few yards behind Monica when her friend reached the counter. "Hi," she said briskly.

"Hi," Deeks replied warily. He wasn't sure how to deal with the apparent force of nature that was Monica. In his brief encounter with her, she'd been less than friendly to him, but he knew the reason for that. "What can I do for you?"

Monica slipped her sunglasses over her head, pushing back her hair. She looked at the menu thoughtfully and then turned to Kensi, who came up behind her. She was ignoring Deeks.

"What sounds good?"

"The smoothie's really good," Kensi offered flatly. She was clearly not pleased to be at the beach. Or maybe just this beach in particular. "The lime-raspberry one."

"Okay, we'll have two of those. Medium. And…Kensi, didn't you say on the way over that you were hungry?" Monica looked at Kensi, who was averting her eyes from the surf shack. She was watching the family on the edge of the water.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't," she replied. "Maybe it was you." Deeks did not miss the look Kensi shot her friend's way. Monica seemed unfazed.

"No, I mean, I wasn't. But now I am," Monica looked at the menu and then at Deeks, "Can you give me a minute?"

"No problem," Deeks pushed away from the counter and began to make the smoothies. "Milk?" He asked over his shoulder.

"No," both girls said in unison. Deeks turned back to his work.

He heard Kensi sigh deeply behind him and then, "I'm going to go do what we could have gone to _any other beach_ to do."

Monica's reply was cheery, but there was an edge to it, "Okay. Tell me if you want anything."

Deeks turned to see Kensi walking away across the beach. Monica watched her for a moment, shook her head, and turned back to Deeks. He raised an eyebrow and Monica held up a hand, silently telling him not to ask.

"She'll come around," She said.

Deeks looked at her questioningly.

"You gotta tell her sorry first," Monica prodded.

"I plan on it...Are you trying to help me?"

"Not exactly," Monica said, hopping up on a stool at the counter. "I'm just…moving things along." At Deeks' raised eyebrow, Monica sighed and said, "That thing in the quad, whatever it was, was the first time in the past year that I've seen Kensi get worked up about anything. She's been 'fine, just fine' for eight months and then she got _angry_." She said the last part in wonderment and excitement, as if it were an achievement.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Deeks told her.

"You made Kensi Blye show emotion, which is not an easy feat," Monica explained. "She went through some stuff last year—I won't tell you what, it's not mine to tell—but it made her completely closed off, even to me. And here _you_ come, getting her so worked up that she storms away. Seriously, consider it an achievement."

Deeks was still confused, "Uh…thanks?"

"No, thank _you. _Of course, she's back to her emotionally suppressed self, but when she mentioned that she saw you here on the first day of classes, I thought we might come down to get some sun now that the heat is finally blowing off. And so I could give you a chance to apologize."

Deeks capped the girls' drinks and slid them across the counter to Monica. She reached into her purse but Deeks held up a hand, "It's on the house." He sat down on the stool on his side of the counter. "I'm still confused what you want from me, though. I pretty effectively made her hate me."

Monica looked at him with a sly smile. "See? That right there confirms that I knew you were a good guy. You just said something really stupid, didn't you?"

Deeks nodded. "Yeah, I have a habit of that apparently," he said, bitterness tinging his tone at the memory of Paul's accusations.

"It doesn't have to be a habit," Monica said brightly. "Here's the thing: I think Kensi needs to meet people and get out and experience life. I don't want her to miss out on our last year of college and I think you might be the key to that. All you have to do is apologize. I'll take it from there."

"You don't think she might take offense to her life being meddled with? Besides, I have the feeling she's gonna be a little harder to bring around," Deeks said ruefully, looking at where Kensi was standing a few hundred yards away. She had her hands on her hips and was watching the water.

Monica followed his gaze and narrowed her eyes. "I just want her to be happy. Kensi's been through a lot. She's …complicated."

"Aren't we all complicated?" Deeks replied, thinking about his own problems with his friend.

"Please, I know complicated," Monica scoffed, and then she added, partly to herself, "It's never anything you can't fix, though." More brightly, she said, "And I think you can help me break through Kensi's walls."

Deeks took a breath. He wanted to get to know her, this mysterious and beautiful girl. He did not, however, want to play a part in her friend's scheming or meddling or whatever it was. He had a feeling Kensi might resent both of them in that case.

"So," Monica said, changing the subject before Deeks could protest, "Where are you from, Marty Deeks?"

The switch in topic threw Deeks a little bit. His law training—and his gut— told him that she did it on purpose so he wouldn't have a chance to back down. "Reseda," he answered slowly. "You?"

Recognition lit Monica's eyes and she smiled, "Me too! I grew up in the apartments off of Arminta and Wilbur."

Now it was Deeks' turn to smile, "So you went to Blythe Street? I lived on Elkwood."

"Oh, my God, yes! Did you have that teacher, what's his name…Mr. Howardson?"

Deeks laughed, "Oh, my God. Fourth grade with Mr. Howardson. Those damn multiplication tables."

"Fourth grade was the worst year of my life," Monica groaned. "So you went to Cleveland High? It's weird, I thought I would have remembered you."

"Nope. We moved when I was eleven. I ended up at Reseda instead."

"I see. Well, that's pretty cool. It's rare to meet someone from Reseda in this area. Not exactly the type to go here, you know?"

Deeks nodded, "Yeah, I know all too well."

Monica's lips pressed together in a line. Reseda was not known for its affluence, and the fact that anyone from that neighborhood was able to go to a private school _and _earn a law degree was something that some people praised him for, and something that got him judgmental looks and snide comments.

"You're a law student, right?" Monica asked. "Did you win that fast-track scholarship?"

Deeks nodded. He had won a statewide scholarship competition for poverty level students. It was nearly the whole year's tuition for the first year, and half for the years after, as long as the student entered the fast track program. Of course, to Deeks, it was a done deal. There was no way he was going to stay in Reseda and go down the same path as his parents.

"Did you?" Deeks asked.

Monica shook her head. "Nope. Someone else beat me out. Half ride on my own merit, thank you very much." She brushed off her shoulder in a mock show of pride and then grinned at Deeks, who was smiling back. "I'm doing Psychology and Criminology. But lawyer is the dream."

"Will you stay here next year, then? Go to the Law school?"

"I'm still thinking about it. You're probably the only person who can understand it when I say that it's just too much money."

Deeks nodded grimly, at a loss for words.

Monica looked over her shoulder at where Kensi was still standing, impatiently waiting for her smoothie. "I better get some sugar in her before she withers away," she said dramatically.

Deeks laughed. "Hey, it was nice talking to you without you yelling at me."

"I didn't _yell_ at you. I'd say it was more of a scolding," Monica said defensively. Then her lips curled into a wry smile, "Don't worry about Kensi. She'll come around."

"You think?" Deeks was still hesitant to make any promises.

"I know. Just give her time. And tell her you're sorry!" Monica said over her shoulder as she walked away, the smoothies in hand.

Deeks watched her go and wondered just how he'd gotten himself into this, whatever _this_ was.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for being patient, everyone! I'm glad the last chapter went over so well, considering there wasn't much Densi. Fair warning: this one doesn't have much either, and it's a bit shorter than usual. Don't worry, though, because chapter 8 has some great Densi moments. It's in the editing stage right now, so I'll have that up very soon. Please enjoy, and don't forget to follow/favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

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><p>"Monica," Kensi warned as her friend walked up. "Whatever you're planning has to stop right now before it even starts."<p>

Monica handed Kensi her smoothie. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said airily.

Kensi raised an eyebrow skeptically, shaking her head. Monica laughed. "I'm serious! We were just talking. Turns out Marty's from Reseda, too." Monica sat down on one of the towels Kensi had laid out and took a sip of her smoothie. "This is really good!"

Kensi sat down, too, not quite believing her friend, but giving up the argument for the moment. "I know. I can't believe you've never had it."

"Just another reason for us to come to _this _beach," Monica quipped.

"Now you're just asking for me not to believe you. 'Just talking' my ass."

"You don't have to believe me," Monica said, trying to sound flippant, but only sounding sneakier. Anyone else would believe her, but Kensi saw right through it.

She sighed, "Monica, don't try and set me up with that guy. He's a jerk."

"Kensi," Monica's tone was serious now, "I'm not trying to set you up with him. I just told him to apologize to you. That's it."

Kensi looked at her friend for a moment, gauging whether she was being truthful or not. There was still something she was hiding, but she seemed to be telling the truth for the most part. Kensi decided to drop it. For now.

Monica looked at her expectantly, waiting for further rebuttal, but Kensi changed the subject. She wasn't the only one who could change the subject in an instant to avoid confrontation. Monica was just better at it.

"How's the argument with the registrar's office going?" Kensi asked.

Monica raised her eyebrows, impressed at Kensi's transition away from an argument. She then sighed dramatically and dropped her sunglasses back over her face. "It's a pain. My LSATs were the best in the class, and I even had my advisor email the office. He told me to appeal to the admissions board."

Although Monica would be going to law school, per California law, she still had to have 2 years' worth of credits in pre-law studies in order to take the exam that would get her into law school. She'd taken the correct amount of credits, just not in a consistent order, and she was having trouble registering for her final semester's worth of classes, as well as for the "Baby Bar", which was the exam that would admit her to law school.

"But I thought you didn't want to go to grad school here," Kensi said, confused.

"The law school is in charge of giving the exam, so they have the final say," Monica explained. The bitterness in her voice and the irritation at the administration was clear. "Can we talk about something else? This is just going to stress me out. We're supposed to be relaxing."

"'Relaxation.' That's a foreign word these days," Kensi said.

"Better take advantage of it while we have it," Monica replied, a trace of bitterness still evident in her voice. She sighed again and took a drink of her smoothie.

Kensi set her own smoothie down, making sure it was lodged into the sand so it wouldn't spill. She stood and pulled off her shirt and shorts, down to her bikini. She sat back down and leaned back on her elbows, tilting her face to catch the warmth of the sun.

"He's looking at you," Monica noted, laughter fighting its way through her voice.

"Monica," Kensi started, warning in her voice.

Monica laughed. "Be flattered, Kens. All that training has seriously paid off. Holy shit, girl."

Kensi smirked, proud of herself. "You're not so bad yourself," she pointed out.

"I know," Monica said proudly. She pulled her sundress over her head, revealing a bikini that she had expertly chosen in order to show off her toned figure. Monica may have had more curves than Kensi, but she worked hard to make sure those curves were in the right places. Kensi sometimes found herself envious of Monica's body. Yes, she had long legs and good skin and was happy with her size, but Monica was sex and softness and just the right proportion of muscle to curves that Kensi just didn't have. It was a mystery to her as to why the other girl didn't have better luck with men. To Kensi, it honestly made no sense.

* * *

><p>The girls laid out in the sun, chatting periodically but mostly quiet, for nearly an hour. Their smoothies had been finished long ago when Monica's phone rang. Kensi looked over as Monica sat up and pushed her sunglasses back to look at the screen. She rolled her eyes, sighed in exasperation, and then answered.<p>

"Hi, Mrs. Williams, what can I do for you?"

Kensi watched Monica listen to the woman on the other end of the phone. She was pretty sure Mrs. Williams was the mother of the twins that Monica watched in the afternoons and evenings. Monica loved the kids to pieces, but their parents were a frequent topic of Monica's overview of her day as she vented to Kensi about the mother's crazy complaints and mandates, and the father's unhealthy relationship with other women, including his unwelcome advances on Monica.

Monica grabbed Kensi's wrist suddenly and looked at her watch, still holding the phone to her ear. "I can be there in about 45 minutes, if that's okay."

Kensi heard the voice on the other end jump a few octaves and Monica pulled the phone away from her ear and grimaced. When the voice quieted down, Monica said sternly, "Mrs. Williams, if you want to call a closer babysitter, I won't be offended. Otherwise, I will see you in 45 minutes."

Monica tone seemed to calm down the woman, because her response was much quieter this time. Monica smiled sweetly, a façade that Kensi knew well, and responded, "Okay, I'll see you soon!" And she ended the call with a jab of her finger.

"Oh, my God," Monica groaned. "If I didn't think I could save those kids from becoming just like their parents, they would be searching for a new nanny."

"Time to go?"

"Yep. Creeper Dad has some last minute benefit that they got invited to, so they need someone to watch the kids. Sorry to cut our afternoon at the beach short."

Kensi waved her hand, dismissing this. "It's not your fault." She pulled on her shirt and stood up to slide up her shorts. Monica followed her lead and slipped her dress over her head.

"Our one mutual day off and now I have to work. No relaxation for the wicked, I guess."

"We got a little bit in," Kensi pointed out. Monica shrugged in agreement, still looking disappointed at their interrupted day off.

They gathered their towels and started the trek across the sand. Kensi had picked up their cups and stopped to throw them away as Monica moved on ahead.

Just as she was about to walk towards the parking lot, she heard "Kensi!"

Kensi turned and crossed her arms, already knowing exactly who it was. Deeks was running across the sand. He stopped a few feet away. "Hey."

"Hey."

He fidgeted a little and then said, "I wanted to apologize. For what happened last week."

Kensi raised an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yeah. Look, I didn't mean what I said. I say stupid things sometimes. It's kind of a problem."

"I gathered that."

Deeks looked down at the sand and then back up at Kensi, his brow furrowed. He stared her straight in the eye and said, "I'm sorry. I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I _am_ owning up to what I said. I just, you know, wanted to tell you that."

Kensi searched his face, gauging his sincerity. For all she knew, Monica had put him up to it and he was a good actor. He was a law student, after all. But…he seemed genuine. His blue eyes held an honesty and true guilt that not many people had when they apologized. "Sorry" was usually an empty sentiment, in Kensi's experience. It was actually kind of refreshing to see a real apology, even if it was from someone she was sure she couldn't stand.

"Thanks," Kensi said, a little awkwardly. "It doesn't redeem you, but thanks." His face brightened up a little bit. Before he could say anything, Kensi was walking away. She didn't do emotion well, and that conversation looked like it was headed for feelings central. So she bolted. He wasn't the only one with bad habits.

Kensi reached the car, where Monica was standing in the open drivers' side door. "Did he say sorry?"

"Yes," Kensi said shortly. She opened the passenger door and sat in the seat, arms folded.

Monica grinned, "Good." Then she turned to Deeks, who was still standing on the sand. "Hey, Marty!" She yelled.

"What are you doing?" Kensi hissed at her friend. She could only reach feebly across the center console, trying to tug Monica back into the car.

She watched through the windshield as Deeks looked up, his face breaking into a grin. "Yeah?"

"We're having a little get together at our place in a few days to celebrate the end of this heat wave. You should come. And bring your friend. Paul, right?"

"Monica!" Kensi gaped. She hadn't heard anything about a party and was pretty sure Monica was making this up on the spot.

"Sure. Yeah, I'll ask him."

"Great. See you around!" Monica started to drop back into the car when Deeks' voice stopped her.

"Wait! Where do you live?"

Monica popped back up and yelled, "860 Bayshore. Unit 6. We're thinking Thursday. See you then?"

"No problem, see you then."

Monica shut her door and started the car. She had backed out and waved at Deeks, and was headed home before Kensi said anything.

"What the hell was that?" She wasn't particularly angry, just shocked and a little embarrassed at her friend for yelling across a beach parking lot.

"What? A party at our place sounds fun, right? Hopefully it rains by Friday," Monica replied innocently. She flipped the turn signal to pull out of the parking lot.

"You invited a stranger to our apartment. A jerk of a stranger, at that."

"No," Monica drew the word out, "I invited Marty and his friend Paul to our apartment. They're not strangers. And Marty's not a jerk. He apologized to you. He really does feel bad."

"I've heard, thanks," Kensi grumbled.

Monica looked over at her and grinned. "He's such a nice guy, Kens. And this party is going to be fun. I won't invite a ton of people, just the regulars. You can invite some of your training friends, too. Some of them live up here, right?" They were driving along the coast now with the windows rolled down, the sea wind blowing their hair around. The sun was starting to edge west in the sky.

"Fine," Kensi conceded. Monica grinned in triumph. "Just don't hook up with any Marines. It'll make it things weird at training if I have to wrestle with a guy who you had sex with." Kensi shuddered at the thought.

"If he's hot, then _I'll _be the one wrestling with him. You know how much I like to make you awkward." Monica's mischievous smile made Kensi roll her eyes and fight a laugh.

Monica pulled onto their street, still smiling. Kensi was watching her and not the road, so she saw Monica's expression change and heard her shrill "ohmygod!" before they both flew forward in their seats. The seatbelt caught with the brakes and cut into Kensi's neck.

Kensi caught her breath as the car settled back from being stopped so quickly. She looked out the window and saw a guy running onto the sidewalk, a backpack clutched to his chest.

Monica was breathing hard and Kensi looked over at her friend. "Are you okay?"

Monica nodded vigorously before clearing her throat, "Yeah. Yeah. Oh, my God. That guy just ran out in the road. What was he thinking?"

"I don't know," Kensi replied, turning to look in the direction he'd gone. He'd disappeared, though.

"Holy shit," Monica said. She cautiously stepped on the gas, moving the car forward. They were less than a block away from home, and she quickly pulled into her spot in front of their building. Once the car was in park, Monica turned to her friend. "Are _you _okay?"

Kensi nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt to inspect the damage on her neck. "Yeah, just a little seatbelt burn."

Monica winced at the angry red welt. "Idiot. Where did he even come from? There's no way he made it up that cliff."

Kensi shrugged and got out of the car, peering down the street in the direction the guy had gone. There was no sign of him. Monica followed suit and shut her door, towel in hand. She locked the car and the girls trudged up three flights of stairs to their landing. While Monica unlocked the door quickly—she was running extremely late—Kensi noticed that the smoothie stain was still on the floor outside the door. It wasn't as sticky anymore, but a few ants had found their way to it and were rooting around the floor on the landing.

Kensi stamped out the ants before entering the apartment behind Monica. The other girl was already in her room, rattling around in her closet. Kensi set her bag down and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. She felt sleepy and drained after the short time at the beach, and now after their close call on the street outside. She just wanted to shower, eat, and fall asleep.

Monica reappeared, dressed and throwing her hair up in a high bun. She had her purse over one arm and a binder precariously trapped under the other. It was in danger of falling as Monica's arms moved to wind her hair up on top of her head.

"You good to drive?" Kensi asked worriedly.

"Yep. I'll just run over the next person who runs in the road," Monica joked.

"That's not funny."

"I'm okay, Kens. It was just a scare. I'll be sure to tell that guy what a moron he is if I see him on my way, though."

"Tell him from me, too. Dinner?"

"You're going to be on your own tonight. Gotta feed the munchkins and put them to bed. I don't know when I'll be home, so don't wait up."

"Sounds good. Have fun," Kensi called as Monica rushed out the door. She waved behind her and the door shut and groaned when Monica forced it closed.

Kensi heard her car start and pull away, and then she was alone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm going to be honest and say that this chapter caused me a bit of stress. While I was editing, I realized that I didn't like how the ending of the chapter fit with the direction I wanted to take for the story, so I scrapped the last half and basically rewrote it, all the while debating whether I was doing the right thing. In the end, I'm far more pleased with the ending here, and to make up for my indecision, I've combined what was originally supposed to be two chapters so that you have much more to hold you over while I figure out where to go next. I'm hoping you guys can give me a few ideas about that in the comments! Enjoy and don't forget to follow/favorite/review! _  
><em>

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p><em>Marty, I'm sorry. Give me a call when you can.<em>

_Come on, man. I need your help._

_Please. It's important._

Deeks watched his phone buzz once again after a slew of text messages that had been piling up all day. It was Wednesday afternoon, and Deeks had the day off from work. He was sitting in the graduate student lounge in the law building on campus, staring at his laptop, willing the words to come out, but failing miserably. He had a pile of cases next to him that he'd been reading and rereading in order to make sense of his first assignment in his Ethics of Law class. So far, it was proving to be a difficult task to focus on, especially since his phone kept going off.

Deeks picked up the phone and checked the messages, knowing they were from Paul and also knowing that he couldn't keep giving the poor guy the cold shoulder for much longer. He was obviously upset, and as much as Deeks didn't want to care, Paul was still his best friend, and he was going to help out his friend.

So he sighed and stood up, leaving his laptop to stew over his paper, feebly hoping that it would type itself. He took his phone out into the hall and punched in Paul's number. It started to ring.

On the third ring, Paul picked up. "Marty," he said, relief clear in his voice. "Hey."

"What's up?" Deeks asked shortly, without preamble.

On the other end, Paul took a breath. "Look, I know you're not really speaking to me right now, but I need your help. My mom's back in town." The words came spilling out in a whoosh, and if Deeks hadn't known Paul as well as he did, he would have asked him to repeat himself.

But Deeks knew Paul, and he didn't need any other explanation for his distress. Paul's mother, Laura, was the epitome of an oppressed diva. Her dreams of having an illustrious and dramatic career were cut short when she got pregnant with Paul's oldest sister, Bethany. Mr. Rickards, Paul's father, was a powerful and manipulative man who kept his wife reigned in. On the surface, it was to protect their reputations, but Deeks knew it was to protect himself from being called out on his many affairs over the years. After their split, Laura had immediately moved to New York, effectively abandoning her family and her identity as the oppressed housewife for her long-awaited turn as the dramatic lead for some off-Broadway production. Deeks had met her only once, when she'd come to LA for Christmas their sophomore year, and she was certainly a handful. She took full advantage of having her freedom, and she used it to manipulate her eager-to-please son. Deeks was not a fan of the woman, and although Paul loved his mother, he made every attempt to spend as little time as possible with her whenever she was back in town.

"I don't know what you would want me to do," Deeks said, a little kinder this time.

"I don't know," Paul sounded flustered. "Just…give me an excuse not to go to dinner with her tomorrow night. She's already roped in Beth and Casey."

Casey was Paul's other sister, and Deeks knew all too well that when the three women got together with Paul, they ganged up on him in even worse ways than the guys in their pre-law program did freshman year. Deeks had witnessed it, and it was grueling. Every now and then, it made him glad his family wasn't around and as involved with his life; it was better to be independent sometimes.

Deeks sighed and thought back to the other day, when he told Monica he would invite Paul to the party. It seemed that the universe really wanted that to happen, as much as he didn't.

"Why can't you make something up yourself?"

"You know I can't lie to them, man. They'll figure me out in a second." Paul's voice was jumping an octave every second, and his panic mode was starting to kick in, heading quickly toward self-destruct.

"Fine, fine. Calm down. There's a party tomorrow. You might as well come with me."

"Thanks, Marty. Seriously. Where's the party at?" Paul's voice was returning back to normal now that he'd been reassured that he didn't have to spend the night being grilled by his mother and sisters.

"Over on Bayshore. At Monica and…Kensi's place," Deeks answered hesitantly.

Paul was quiet for a moment and then, "Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. Thanks. Uh, you see them somewhere or something?"

Deeks kicked the cinderblock wall lightly with toe of his shoe and scrubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah, at the beach the other day. They came out to get some sun and stopped by the shack."

"And you talked to them?"

"Monica mostly. She's the one who invited me."

"And Kensi?"

"I apologized to her for what I said, but she pretty much ignored me."

Paul was quiet for a second. "That's good. That you apologized. So you're sure it's okay for me to go to the party?"

"Yeah, Monica told me to invite you. Look, I gotta get this paper finished or Healy will have even more reason to hate me. I'll text you the details, ok?"

Paul chuckled lightly at Deeks' joke and then said, "Thanks, Marty. I'll see you tomorrow."

Deeks hung up and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. God, he hated being awkward with Paul. They had their disagreements, so it wasn't unusual for one or both of them to act weird the first time they spoke afterwards, but it usually blew off quickly. This was just weird, and it made Deeks uneasy. He just hoped that they could deal with it over a few beers tomorrow night and get over it. And stay away from Kensi, as if that were easy.

* * *

><p>The wind was blowing harder on Thursday, although it was still a hot wind. The humidity had lessened a bit and Monica had worn her hair down for the first time in two weeks, a record for her—and a disgrace—as she kept reminding Kensi.<p>

Kensi skipped training to help Monica set up for the party. It was 6pm and she was driving back from picking up the alcohol for the night. She'd also gotten a plastic tub and some ice per Monica's request. It was a Thursday, and Monica didn't have to get up for class in the morning, so she was planning on getting drunk tonight. She had it organized so she'd have enough time to de-hangover herself before picking the twins up from school at 4. She had it all planned out, as was Monica's way.

Kensi, on the other hand, was not entirely opposed to getting drunk, but she preferred her drink out of a bottle rather than a tub. She also preferred to be able to tell whether her friends were too drunk to drive home and stop them if they were. Someone had to be the judge.

Kensi pulled into her parking spot and walked around to the trunk, where she pulled out the tub, with ice and bottles inside. She carried it up the stairs to the apartment and realized that she didn't have any way to open the door without setting down the tub. She kicked it a few times and heard Monica on the other side scurrying to open it.

"Hey!" the other girl greeted, holding the door open so Kensi could come in.

"Hey," Kensi said breathlessly. She straightened up after setting the tub in the middle of the living room. "That stain's gone."

Monica looked out in the hallway and said, "Well, look at that, maintenance finally did something for once."

Kensi snorted a laugh and then asked, "How's the food coming?"

Monica forced the door closed and turned with a smile on her face. "Good. Guess who's coming tonight?"

"Who?" Kensi asked, laughing at her friend's excitement.

"Christine Marcus. You remember her?"

"Who couldn't? She practically blew up Jackson Hall freshman year."

"I know! It was awesome! Orly saw her while he was out surfing the other day and invited her. It's been so long."

"Well, yeah, she got expelled."

"For being awesome! Tonight is going to be such a great night."

Kensi rolled her eyes good naturedly and said, "As long as she doesn't blow up our apartment building, I'm all for her coming." She moved farther into the apartment, taking the bags of alcohol with her. She went to the kitchen and started pulling bottles out and setting them on the counter. Monica came up behind her and started moving bowls and plates out of her way defensively.

"I'm not going to ruin your food," Kensi laughed.

"I don't know that," Monica said suspiciously. "Your cooking skills are so bad you probably don't even have to touch it to ruin it."

"Ouch," Kensi said, putting her hand to her chest and feigning insult. Then she shrugged, "You're probably right."

"You know I am," Monica laughed. She set the plates on the opposite counter and then went back in the living room. Kensi followed, having emptied the bags.

Monica tore open one bag of ice and poured it into the bin. Kensi picked up the other and held it up questioningly. "What do you want to do with this? It won't fit in the freezer."

"Sink? We can put the bottles in there."

"Good idea. This is why we're roommates." Kensi gestured between the two of them while hoisting the bag of ice into her arms.

"You know it. I also feed you," Monica quipped with a grin. She started to pour a few of the bottles into the tub.

"More jokes at the expense of my cooking and I might have to move out."

"And fend for yourself? Yeah, right. You'd be back in less than a month."

Kensi stuck her tongue out at her friend and crossed the room. She plugged the sink drain and poured the ice into the basin. It just reached the top and Kensi started to put bottles and cans into it. She also dropped a few sodas in for good measure.

Monica and Kensi worked quietly for a few moments. Kensi tidied up the kitchen and pulled a package of plastic cups out of the cupboard and set it next to the sink and turned to help Monica, but the other girl pointed her back into the kitchen. "Permanent marker. Remember what happened last time?"

The last party they'd held had turned into a guessing game of whose cup was whose, and then all the cups without names had been used in a messy and surprisingly gross game of beer pong. Monica had bought a pack of permanent markers the very next day, while Kensi struggled to make their living room rug smell less like beer. They ended up buying a new rug, too.

Kensi took a marker out of the drawer and set it pointedly on the counter next to the cups. Monica nodded, satisfied.

"We good to go?" Kensi asked.

Monica looked around. "I think so. Shot to start the night?"

"That's what I've been waiting for," Kensi responded. She followed Monica, who was laughing at her response, into the kitchen. She poured a shot of straight tequila for each girl and handed Kensi a glass.

The girls clinked glasses and swallowed their shots just as there was a pounding on the door. Kensi felt the burn down her throat and winced, already feeling the buzz hit her system. She watched Monica head to the door, shot glass still in hand and opened it to reveal the infamous Orly.

Orly, an exuberant and outgoing guy, had a 12 pack under his arm and his girlfriend Quinn under the other. "Heyooo!" He yelled, entering the apartment. He was the type of guy who filled up a space with his personality, and the room instantly felt smaller, but not uncomfortable. Jack had never liked Orly; he'd thought he was too cocky. Kensi liked him, and although he could be too in-your-face sometimes, she thought he was funny and he had been one of very few of her friends who had been there for Kensi throughout her grief over Jack leaving. Now, he released Quinn and set the beer down and hugged Monica and then Kensi, crushing them both in big hugs as if they hadn't just seen the guy earlier that day.

"How are my second and third favorite girls?" He asked, winking at Quinn, who rolled her eyes. Their love for each other was unequalled, however exasperated the quieter and more reserved Quinn was with her boyfriend's antics.

"I'm good," Monica said. "But who's second and who's third?"

Orly scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Depends on who lets me beat them in pong tonight," he teased.

Kensi pointed at Monica with a smile. "That'd be Mon. You know I won't go down without a fight."

"True," Quinn said with a laugh, coming back from the kitchen with drinks for her and Orly. "You gonna beat him at arm wrestling, too?"

"You know I'll try," Kensi replied.

Orly pulled his arm away in a show of mock defense, making everyone laugh.

Monica had left the door open and a few more people showed up, and she greeted them, shuffling Kensi and Orly further into the apartment. Quinn stayed to say hello to her best friend, who had come with the second group.

Orly nudged Kensi, who was watching the greetings. "And you? You're doing okay?"

Kensi turned to him and saw the genuine concern in his face. She smiled and said, "Yeah, I am actually."

Orly's grin split his face. "That's good, Kens. That's really good. I don't need to beat anyone up for you?" he teased, knowing full well that Kensi could single-handedly beat up anyone who messed with her.

"No," Kensi laughed.

"Well, you know where to find me if you need help," he said. Kensi caught the additional meaning in his words and nodded, smiling.

"Thanks, Orly." He smiled down at her and chuffed her in the shoulder before rejoining the fledgling party and greeting their other friends.

"Kensi!" A few of them yelled, beckoning her over. Kensi smiled and joined her friends. A drink was pushed into her hand and their hands wrapped around her in hugs, and she felt less pitied and more like she belonged than she had in 9 months.

* * *

><p>"Wow," Paul breathed as he and Deeks walked up Bayshore Drive. They'd parked at the bottom of the road because there was no way Deeks' Malibu was making it up this incline. Deeks shared Paul's amazement. The sea was on their left, the sheer cliff dropping off the side of the road guaranteeing that there would be no beachgoers disturbing this street. The views from the houses and apartment buildings must have been incredible, Deeks thought. Sure, they were packed tightly together, but being able to see the ocean made it feel less crowded, he was sure.<p>

Deeks had picked up Paul from his apartment and though he'd received a grateful "thank you" for getting him out of dinner with his mother, they hadn't spoken much. Now, Paul said, "Do you think this is going to be weird? Because we don't know any of their friends?"

Deeks shrugged and ignored the burning in his legs as they climbed the street. "Monica will find us someone to talk to if we can't find anyone ourselves. She's pretty friendly."

"Yeah, but-,"

"Paul," Deeks cut him off. Paul turned to him, his eyes wide with surprise. Deeks could see the fear there, too, at having to go into a new situation. "Chill, okay? It can't be worse than dinner with your mom and sisters."

Deeks turned and continued walking. After a moment, he heard Paul follow him. They walked another few moments in silence. Deeks could feel Paul's hurt and instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry," he said as they continued walking. "I didn't mean it like that. Just, you know, get a little confidence."

"Don't let them see me sweat?" Paul asked, a small smile in his voice.

Deeks laughed lightly, "Exactly." He looked over at his friend and grabbed his shoulder. "Don't get too worked up. It's just a party, man."

And just like that, the tension of the past two weeks faded away. There was still an uncomfortable element between them, like they were afraid to say something that would set the other off, but they were back to their usual way of talking to each other. It felt more normal than it had lately.

"Jesus, this street is ridiculous," Paul groaned as they continued to climb. They could hear music coming out of the open windows of an apartment building a few hundred yards further.

"Come on, I think that's it. We don't do all those runs on the beach for nothing," Deeks said.

The men reached the building, 860 Bayshore, as Deeks had predicted. They looked up at it. The music was coming out of the third floor windows and Paul groaned again, "Dude, I can't climb anymore."

Deeks pushed his friend toward the stairs and followed behind, "Don't flake out now."

They reached the top of the stairs and didn't need the number 6 on the door to tell them where the party was. They could hear music and laughter from behind the door and before Paul had a chance to back down, Deeks knocked.

The door was pulled open by Kensi, who was laughing at something. She had a drink in her hand and her eyes were bright. Her smile dimmed a bit when she saw Deeks and Paul. "Hey," she greeted them. She opened the door a little wider, "Come on in."

"Paul! Marty!" Monica exclaimed as they walked into the apartment. She stood up from her spot on the couch and stepped over the legs of the other people sitting on the couch. She stumbled a bit over the last person, who reached out to right her. "Thanks," she said off handedly, causing the friend who helped her to shake his head and smile.

Monica came up next to Kensi and grabbed Deeks' hand, pulling him into the circle of people. Paul followed. Kensi closed the door behind them. "Everyone," Monica announced, "This is Marty," she pointed to Deeks. "And this is Paul," she did the same with Paul. "Marty, Paul, this is, well, everyone!" She gestured around the room at the people, who all waved or nodded in their direction.

After an awkward moment, one of the guys sitting on the couch gestured them over, "Well, come on in!" Deeks shrugged and walked over. The guy stood up and offered his hand. He was huge; extremely tall and built with muscle. "I'm Orly."

Deeks took his hand and shook it. "Marty Deeks."

"Paul Rickards," Paul said, holding out his hand.

Orly shook their hands and then gestured to the rest of the group who were sitting around the low coffee table. "Okay, so this is Quinn, Bailey, Chris, Jinkies, Kate, Miles, Ledger, and Vanessa." He pointed at each person in turn and then turned to Kensi, who was still standing by the door. "You know Kensi, right?" Paul and Deeks nodded. Kensi uncrossed her arms and nodded as well.

Monica came in and placed a full cup in each man's hand. "And Monica, of course. You know Monica," Orly said with a grin. He reached out to ruffle Monica's hair and she swatted his hand away with a glare.

"Don't mess up my hair," she whined. Orly laughed a deep bass laugh. Monica huffed and climbed over the mess of limbs on the couch back to her spot. Happily settled back in her seat, she waved Deeks and Paul over, "Come in! We're just catching up after the summer. There's more people coming, but it's Rush Week, and they're all tied up in Greek stuff."

A few people on the couch moved over, but Deeks chose to sit on the arm. Paul sat on the floor in the space that Kensi had apparently left, as she was left standing awkwardly on the outside of the group. Paul noticed this and moved to stand up, "Sorry. I didn't know-,"

"It's fine," Kensi interrupted him. "I'll go grab my chair from my room."

She disappeared into her room and conversation started up again. Orly turned to Deeks, looking over the head of the girl sitting next to him. Quinn?

"So what year are you, Marty?"

"Last year of law school," Deeks replied, feeling the age gap all of a sudden. It wasn't that much, but in college, it was an eternity.

"Whoa, dude! How'd you meet Kensi and Monica? It's not exactly like you're running in the same circles."

"Yeah, I know. No need to point out how old I am." Orly cracked a grin at that. "Nah, we met at a party the weekend before classes started."

Orly nodded, "Cool, man. So Monica invited you? Kensi doesn't seem too pleased that you're here."

Deeks laughed self-consciously. "Yeah, well, it's…complicated with Kensi."

"Dude, you've know her two weeks and things are complicated? Wait, are you the guy from the quad?"

Deeks was taken aback. "Unfortunately. How'd you know about that?"

"Monica," Orly said by way of explanation. Deeks nodded knowingly. He was starting to understand that Monica was someone who had trouble keeping things to herself, and liked to have a hand in everybody's business.

Kensi returned to the room and set her chair down on the other side of the group. She was welcomed seamlessly into the conversation and she laughed at something one of the guys across the way had said. Deeks was looking at her, but she didn't look up once.

"Okay, man, you either gotta ask her out or forget it. Either way, you're probably gonna be turned down," Orly said, catching Deeks' staring. "Kensi doesn't play games."

"I'm aware," Deeks said, turning back to Orly. "I apologized for the scene in the quad and she basically shut me down."

"You're gonna have to do a lot more than apologize," Orly said, laughing. "Like I said, she's tough."

"I have no doubt."

Quinn looked up from her conversation with the people on the floor, including Paul. "Are you talking about Kensi?" She asked.

Deeks nodded. He noticed Paul looking at him. His expression was unusually inscrutable.

Quinn put a hand on Deeks' knee and said, "I'm gonna give you some advice, because I'm guessing you're a nice guy and I want to save you some heartache. Just leave her be, okay? She's been through a tough year. We're only just starting to get her back to normal. I don't want to have to pick up the pieces again." She said the last part sadly, looking down at her hands.

Orly put his arm around Quinn and squeezed. He looked up at Deeks and said, "We're pretty protective of Kens, though she'll never tell you she needs protecting. Just, you know, go easy, okay?"

Deeks nodded, bewildered. Monica had told him Kensi had gone through a tough patch, but he didn't realize how badly it might have affected their friends.

Monica effectively interrupted the mood that settled over their conversation. "Who's ready for shots?" She asked, standing up. She swayed a little and the guy who had been sitting on the chair next to the couch took her drink out of her hand and set it on the table.

"Hey," she protested.

"What? You won't have room for shots if you keep drinking that crap," the guy shot back.

She pointed at him, "True. Kensi? Will you help me?" Kensi nodded and stood up. She followed Monica into the kitchen.

"Hey, Kens, can I plug in my iPod?" One of the girls called. Kensi waved at her with a thumbs-up. The girl hopped up and fiddled around with the sound system before a fast song with heavy bass started to thump through the speakers.

People started to dissipate around the room. Some stayed on the floor around the table while others made space for a game of quarters. Paul stood up next to Deeks and looked at him incredulously.

"Dude," he said, hurt in his face. "You're trying to get with Kensi?"

Deeks rubbed his face and took a drink from his cup—he winced at how horribly fruity it was— before answering. "Not really, no. But when I ran into them at the beach the other day, Monica and I got to talking…Look, I'm not trying to infringe on anything you want to happen between you guys, but you heard what they were saying. Give her space, man."

"You talked to _Monica_?"

"Yes."

"And what did you talk about?"

"Home, our majors, normal stuff."

"But Kensi came up?"

"Yes. Monica told me to apologize to her. And I did. I'm pretty sure she still hates me, if that makes you happy," Deeks said spitefully.

Paul's face hardened. "You know that I like her."

"You don't even know her!" Deeks snapped. The loud music covered his outburst, so thankfully, no one but Paul heard him. "And neither do I. Is that the only reason you came tonight?"

Paul looked away and set his jaw.

"Dude, you can't play it like this. You have to get to know her. And stop thinking that I'm infringing on your territory or whatever, because I'm not."

"I can't stop thinking it, because you always manage to ruin it!" Paul shot back. His vehemence startled Deeks. "Every girl I've ever liked has met you and then liked you more. You have no idea what it feels like to be passed up for something better than you and have no control over it."

Deeks narrowed his eyes and said quietly, "Yeah, actually I do. If you stopped and, you know, noticed that I have a life that doesn't include helping you out, you might know that." With that, he walked away. The only secluded place he saw was the kitchen, so he went that way without even knowing what he was doing.

Deeks was vibrating with anger, and he was so involved in it that he didn't noticed Monica and Kensi until he almost ran into Kensi in the kitchen. She was carrying a plate of shots and the glass rattled when Deeks bumped into the plate. Kensi lifted it out of the way to settle it and said, "Is running into girls your way of picking them up?"

Deeks looked up at her and said, "Sorry. I didn't see you."

"I know."

She caught his eye and looked at him. _Really _looked at him. Deeks tried to look away, but her gaze was magnetic. "Hey, you okay?" She asked softly.

"Yeah."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Monica," she said over her shoulder. Monica had been watching the exchange with a sly smile on her face and now she stepped forward. "Can you take this out?" She held up the tray. "I wouldn't want it all to end up on the floor because someone can't stop bumping into people." She looked pointedly at Deeks.

"Of course," Monica said, taking the tray, but not before Kensi grabbed two shots off of it. Monica winked at Deeks on her way past him.

"Here," Kensi said as she handed Deeks a shot. "I don't know what's got you worked up, but this'll help." She held hers out and they touched glasses and drank. Deeks was still angry, but the alcohol hit his system and countered the burn of anger with the burn of tequila.

"Shit," Deeks said. He was unprepared for what was going into his mouth and the burn of the alcohol made his voice raspy.

"Better?"

"Kind of, thanks. You drink it straight?"

"You don't?"

Deeks looked at Kensi, surprised and impressed. A small smile was tugging at her lips. "I usually have at least a lime on hand," he said.

"We have them if you want to take it training wheels style."

Deeks finally figured out that she was teasing him and smiled a little. "Don't worry about me. Two wheels, it is."

"Right, okay then," she said skeptically.

Deeks grabbed a beer from the sink, which was filled with ice. He twisted off the cap and held it out to Kensi, who set her shot glass down and took the bottle. Even though she had acted tough during the shot, Deeks could tell she was relieved to have the cool beer to dull the burn of straight tequila. Deeks uncapped his own and downed a swig, a smile fighting its way onto his lips.

"I saw that," he said.

She furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Are you trying to impress me or something?"

"What? No! What are you talking about?"

"Did you drink straight tequila just to show off? Because I can tell you really didn't enjoy that."

Her eyes widened for a moment and then she said defensively, "I enjoyed it a lot, actually. And no, I wasn't showing off."

Deeks tried not to laugh when he said, "You sure? Because I can get some limes and salt. We can go at it on the training wheels. I won't judge."

Kensi glared at him. Deeks couldn't contain his mischievous grin.

She opened her mouth to say something when someone yelled her name from the other room. "Your Marines are here!"

Kensi rolled her eyes and then sidled up to Deeks. He thought she was just getting in his space for the sole purpose of flirtation, but she said softly, "Excuse me."

Deeks moved out of the way. As she left the room, she smiled over her shoulder at him. _Oh, God_.

* * *

><p>What was she thinking? It was the alcohol; that was the only explanation. Kensi Blye was not the type of girl to flirt with a guy the way she'd been flirting with him just now. The teasing and the shots and his smile…<p>

Oh, God.

She hadn't flirted in three years, except with Jack, who had honestly been better at making her feel wanted more than anything else. He had never really teased her the way she'd been teasing Deeks. And he'd teased her right back, calling her out on trying to impress him.

There was no denying Deeks was attractive, even though he wasn't really her type. But if Kensi was being honest with herself, she really didn't know her "type" anymore. She'd thought she was attracted to military men. Dark and brooding, maybe. Clean cut, definitely. But Deeks…he was so out of her box. He was blonde and scruffy and laid back. And she kept telling herself he was a jerk, but every time she saw him, it was a fight to keep that pretense.

She shook herself and greeted the guys from her training course. They were all dressed in plainclothes, which was weird for her to see. They were usually dressed in their uniforms. This was the type of guy she liked, she told herself. Clean and ambitious and military. It was all she'd ever known.

After pointing the guys to the drinks and introducing them to Monica, who put on her most flirtatious smile, Kensi went to shut the door, but was stopped by a voice on the other side, yelling up the stairs. "Hey, wait!"

Kensi opened the door again and saw a blonde girl running up the stairs with a grin on her face. She was clutching her purse in one hand and bottle of vodka in the other.

"Hey!" Kensi greeted. "It's been a while. Blown up anything recently?"

"I've abandoned my life of crime," Christine said, laughing breathlessly. "My God, that hill and those stairs are a killer." She bent over at the waist and caught her breath.

"Sorry," Kensi apologized. "Come on in. Monica's been dying to see you."

Christine straightened up and entered the apartment. "Where can I put this?" she asked, holding up the bottle. Kensi pointed towards the kitchen and they hugged briefly. "We'll catch up later?"

"Definitely," Kensi said with a smile. "I think Monica's in the hallway somewhere. That, or she's in the kitchen chatting up some Marines."

"Hasn't changed a bit, has she?" Christine laughed.

"Not much. She paces herself now," Kensi joked.

Christine grinned at her and moved into the apartment, waving over her shoulder. Kensi heard Monica's squeal of joy when she was reunited with her freshman year roommate. She laughed to herself and went to close the door. She looked out onto the landing first, and reveled in the cool breeze that was now blowing off the ocean. It was a welcome feeling after nearly two weeks of constant heat. She could smell rain in the air, too, and hoped that it fell tonight.

Kensi turned after closing the door and saw Paul standing awkwardly near the door. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he said back. Then he smiled shyly at his feet. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Kensi said. She thought she knew where this was going, and she really didn't want to turn this guy down; he was so sweet.

"How do you know that girl?" Kensi was taken aback. That was definitely not what she'd expected him to say.

"Who? Christine?" He nodded. "She was Monica's roommate freshman year. Do you know her?"

Paul looked over his shoulder towards the hallway, where Kelly had disappeared with Monica. "Sort of," he said. "Her name's Christine?"

Kensi nodded, starting to realize what was going on. "Go talk to her," she said, nudging Paul toward the hallway.

He looked at her in fear, a deer in the headlights. "I don't know if I can. She already stood me up once."

Kensi furrowed her brow. She didn't know Christine as well as Monica, but that didn't seem like the type of thing she'd do. "Christine wouldn't have stood you up on purpose. Come on, I'll introduce you." She gestured across the room and started to walk towards the hallway. Paul followed her.

Christine and Monica were standing in the hallway chatting with a few of the Marines. "Hey, Kens!" Monica called out. "Your friends were just telling us how you beat them at everything in training."

The guys looked a little embarrassed at being called out, and mumbled their excuses before heading back into the living room. Kensi fought to keep her pride in check as she turned to include Paul in the group. He was staring at Christine. "Hey, Christine, Paul says he knows you?"

Christine looked Paul up and down in confusion. "Uh…I don't think so. Where would we have met?"

Paul swallowed nervously and said, "Down at the beach. It was back in August. It must have been someone who looked like you. Sorry."

He started to turn away, but Christine said, "Did you get stood up? By a girl who looks just like me?"

Paul turned, his eyes wide. He nodded.

Christine nodded knowingly. "You met my twin, Cara."

Kensi and Monica gaped at her. "You have a twin?" Monica said in surprise.

Christine laughed lightly. "Yeah. She's the better behaved one, but a total bitch." She turned to Paul, "I'm sorry she did that to you. I'd make it up to you if I could, but I can't do _everything_ for her."

Paul was gaping at her. Once he realized that everyone was looking at him, he closed his mouth, swallowed again, and said, "You might be able to make it up to me, if you'll let me take you on a date."

Christine's mouth quirked into a smile, and she said, "Sure. But let's see how tonight goes first."

Paul's look of complete amazement that she'd agreed made Monica giggle. Then, he smiled. Kensi was under the impression that Paul didn't smile too often, but when he did, it lit up his whole face and turned him from decently cute to full-on surfer-boy gorgeous. Even Monica's eyes widened.

"Can I get you a drink?" Paul asked.

"Lead the way," Christine told him, gesturing towards the kitchen.

After they left, Monica leaned over to Kensi. "Oh, my God. Why doesn't he smile like that more often?"

Kensi had a smile on her face. A real smile, the kind that came with a balloon of happiness in her chest. She tried to push it down so it wouldn't overwhelm her. Monica noticed, though, and punched her friend in the arm.

"Kensi! Look at you, playing matchmaker! You'll be stealing my job pretty soon."

Kensi took a drink from the bottle in her hand. "There's no chance of that happening, trust me. I didn't even know it would turn out that way. Christine has a sister?"

Monica shrugged, a bemused expression on her face. "I don't even know how I didn't know that. I mean, we were roommates."

"Every family's got its secrets?" Kensi guessed.

"Whatever secret it is, I want to meet this sister and bitch her out for standing up Paul. He's such a sweet guy."

"You barely know him," Kensi laughed.

"I don't have to _know_ him to know he's nice," Monica retorted. She took a drink and said, "He's friends with Marty, so he's gotta be pretty decent." She looked at Kensi out of the corner of her eye, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Why do we always end up back here?" Kensi asked in exasperation, knowing full well that she was taking the bait and preparing herself for the consequences.

Monica's look of delight as Kensi fed into the topic did not go unmissed. "Because I saw you and Marty in the kitchen earlier. Kens, you were _flirting_ with him. I've never seen you flirt with anyone, not even Jack."

"Then how do you know I was flirting?"

"Please, I know all the signs. The smiling, the giggling, the hair twirling…"

"The pelvic tilt," Kensi heard a male voice say from behind her. Monica grinned at whoever it was and nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Kensi turned. Speak of the devil.

Deeks was standing in the doorway to the hallway, a drink in hand. "Talking about me?"

Kensi and Monica spoke at the same time.

"No."

"Yes."

Deeks grinned and leaned in. Softly, he said, "Don't worry, Kensi. I won't tell everyone that you secretly like me."

Monica gasped and giggled. "Oh, my God. Okay, I think that's my cue." And she hurried off, but not without elbowing Kensi on her way past and wiggling her eyebrows at her.

Kensi was thankful for the dim lighting in the hallway that hid her blush. It wasn't like what he'd said wasn't true; it was that he'd figured her out so quickly. And of course Monica had to feed into it.

"I wouldn't go that far," Kensi said, lifting her head in defiance. "It's more like you're barely tolerable."

Deeks' grin grew and his eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Whatever you say, Blye."

"I'm serious," Kensi said, trying to infuse her voice with as much seriousness as she could.

"I didn't say you weren't," he said lightly, taking a drink from the bottle in his hand.

Kensi opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted—what was it with the interruptions tonight?—by someone yelling from across the apartment, "Hey! I think it's going to rain!"

People rushed past Kensi and Deeks, desperate excited for a reprieve from the heat. Kensi backed up against the wall, trying not to trip over the few cups that were stacked on the ground. Deeks put his hand on her elbow to steady her.

Kensi was sure it was just a reflex; that he had caught her only because that's what you did when someone was falling over. But his hand on her elbow was warm and calloused and strong, and when he took it away, Kensi felt the cold air hit her skin and missed the contact.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly.

"Glad I bumped into you this time?" He asked, that smile still on his face. Unlike Paul, Deeks couldn't seem to stop smiling.

Kensi rolled her eyes.

"Kens! You coming?" Monica called from across the apartment. Deeks gestured for Kensi to go in front of him and she did. He followed behind.

Someone had turned off the music, and as they moved towards the front of the apartment, Kensi heard thunder rumbling. Monica was standing by the door, looking outside towards the water. The wind was blowing hard now, and when Kensi stepped outside, she felt it with relief after so many days of uncomfortably hot and humid weather.

Monica shut the door of the apartment and started down the stairs, Kensi and Deeks following. At the second floor landing, they saw Paul and Christine leaning up against the railing, looking out over the ocean, where the clouds were bursting with lightning. They were talking quietly, leaning in towards each other. Kensi and Monica smiled knowingly at each other, and Deeks grinned too, though with a little bemusement.

As they continued down the stairs, Deek said, "What was that?"

Monica looked over her shoulder, "Paul met a girl."

"Obviously."

Monica laughed and rolled her eyes. "She's actually really great. Kensi set them up."

Deeks turned to Kensi with amusement in his eyes. "I didn't set them up, exactly," she explained defensively. "It was more a matter of chance."

Something about her words had Deeks reeling. They had reached the first floor landing and he slowed, catching Kensi's arm. Monica continued ahead, hopping down on the pavement when she reached the bottom. She ran into the street to join their friends.

Kensi looked at him like she had in the kitchen, searching his face for answers.

"I have something to tell you," Deeks said. He leaned against the railing that looked down over the street. Kensi joined him, dangling her hands over the edge. One hand still held the bottle of beer he'd uncapped for her, her fingertips gripping the neck.

"What's up?" Kensi prompted him after he didn't say anything for a moment.

Deeks took a deep breath and said, "I want to thank you for helping Paul out. We're not on the best terms right now. We fought earlier. That's why I was angry in the kitchen. I think him meeting someone will be good for him. And for our friendship." He paused for a second and screwed up his face, then said, "And I want to apologize again. I really am so sorry for the way I acted, Kensi."

"It's okay." Kensi told him quietly. She looked out to the street, where the partygoers were standing on the pavement, watching as the lightning-ridden clouds moved closer to shore.

"No, it's really not," Deeks said, turning to face her. Kensi looked at him in confusion. All of a sudden, he wanted to tell her everything so she'd understand him. So she'd trust him. "This whole thing between me and Paul, it's been about you. We both liked you from the start, but I was trying to be a good friend and help him out and it's basically gone to shit."

She was still confused, but Deeks saw her start to put the pieces together. "You were trying to get me to like him by being a jerk in comparison. So, that thing in the quad…it wasn't real, was it?"

Deeks shook his head, grimacing. "But the apology was real. That night at the party? That was real. Tonight was definitely real." He said the last part softly, and he wasn't sure if she had heard him.

Kensi laughed suddenly, making his stomach flip at the sound. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh, really laugh, and it lightened the mood considerably. It didn't mask his confusion, however, and she explained, "I ended up being the one with the good liquor."

Deeks' lips quirked up in a wry smile at the memory of that night at the party, and then tonight with the tequila. She didn't seem to be too upset, so he chanced a tease. "I can still show you a good time," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up, Deeks," she told him in exasperation, fighting a smile. "You just got into my good books, don't ruin it for yourself."

"Wait, I'm in your good books now? What for?"

"Deeks," she sighed, giving him a look.

Deeks grinned. He understood her, though, so he held up his hands and said, "I'll take what I can get. One question, why are you keeping me around? You could just as easily tell me to go away and never come back."

Kensi looked away, back to the ocean. Deeks followed her gaze. The clouds were nearly upon them now, and the rumbles of thunder were getting louder and more frequent. Still not looking at him, she said, "Because I know you would do it, and somehow, that makes me trust you just a little more."

"Really?" he said, surprised.

"Don't make me say it again, Deeks."

"Okay, okay. I'll take what I can get. Got it."

She looked at him and rolled her eyes at his goofy smile. She gestured impatiently at the pavement below and said, "Do you wanna join the party now?" Deeks could tell she was hiding a smile of her own, though.

* * *

><p>He pushed away from the railing and held his hand out, indicating that Kensi should descend the stairs first. She did and he followed. She could feel him behind her, acutely aware of his presence, and it confused her even more. There was no way she should be feeling like this about someone so quickly after knowing them. There was no way she should be allowing herself to become friends (well, not quite) with a guy who made her heart flutter the way it did when he smiled. It violated every single one of her rules.<p>

They reached the pavement just as the first drops started to fall. Monica ran over and pulled Kensi into the street as everyone started yelling at the sky. Thunder rumbled and a streak of lightning ran down into the ocean. Kensi looked behind her and saw Deeks following. He was looking at her and he smiled. Unconsciously, she smiled back.

The raindrops came faster and her friends started to run around in the street, yelling. Thankfully, they were staying well clear of the edge of the cliff. Many people were just standing still, their tongues out to catch the rain. Monica, standing next to Kensi, did the same. Wind blew in and made the moisture on their skin cool instantly. The rain started to come harder and Kensi laughed at her friends dancing in it, in the middle of the night.

A few people from the apartments around them came out to the street and celebrated the end of the heat wave as well. Kensi looked over at Deeks, who was laughing at something Orly had said. His blonde hair had darkened to almost brown and was plastered to his face. His grin was not directed to Kensi, but it made her heart flip anyway.

Oh, god.

Kensi could feel her hair start to get weighed down by the rain, and the drops on her bare shoulders were cold, but she didn't care. She was here, with her friends, and it was raining for the first time in weeks, and it wasn't hot anymore. She was having fun for the first time in forever and Deeks wasn't actually a jerk and things were actually kind of right.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here's chapter 9! I've really been enjoying all the wonderful comments and suggestions from chapter 8. Most of you were right on the mark with where I'm headed, so that's very reassuring! There were also a few suggestions that I really liked, so those might make their way into upcoming chapters. Stay tuned!

Don't forget to favorite/follow/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>Mid-September blew in with an early start to peak surfing season. Once the heat dissipated, people were itching to spend every moment they could in the water. Deeks and Paul were doubling up with the other employees at the surf shack, especially on weekends, and even then, it was almost too busy for them to handle.<p>

Midterms were fast approaching, and Deeks was taking every precious minute he had to study as well as surf the best waves of the year. If his years of self-sufficiency had taught him anything, it was how to balance all of his commitments. But even now, he was struggling to keep up with it all.

Paul was in the same boat, as were most of their classmates. Deadlines for applications for spring internships were quickly becoming more visible, and the most competitive internships were making people edgy, Paul among them. He kept nudging Deeks to apply, but Deeks still wasn't sure he wanted to. He had applied for a placement at the public defender's office, as well as the District Attorney's, but he wasn't 100% committed to either.

Deeks and Paul were on the same work schedule, as they had been since they began working together. Nico, the owner of the shack, didn't even notice he was doing it anymore, Deeks thought. They were a package deal, as they'd been for 6 years. Now, however, there was a third person who was always there whenever they were both working: Christine stopped by nearly every day when she got off work at one of the tourist shops down the beach. She'd shake her long blonde hair out of her cheesy employee-required cap, sighing when it fell around her back. Then she'd strip off the polo she was wearing, revealing a bikini top, and she'd sit at the counter, where Paul would bring her something to drink and she'd vent about her day dealing with irate customers.

Deeks was glad that Paul was getting along with this girl. His confidence had skyrocketed since they'd met at the party, and he walked around with a swagger that had previously not even existed in the sphere of Paul Rickards. And he seemed to have forgotten about his crush on Kensi, which Deeks was thankful for. They still weren't completely back to normal, but not having that tension between them was a breath of fresh air from the last few weeks.

Christine, it turned out, was a decent surfer, one of the many things that she and Paul had in common. She was getting a degree in family law at UCLA, and it turned out that they were from the same neighborhood and their parents had run in the same social circles. Christine was a little rougher around the edges than Paul, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind, but Deeks saw how it was bringing out the confident Paul that only showed himself in the most comfortable of situations. Also, he smiled a lot more, and Christine blushed every time one of those smiles was directed at her. Deeks wasn't really a romantic at heart, but he could see this becoming a lot more, and he was happy for it.

It was one of those afternoons that Christine came by while Deeks was doing schoolwork at the counter. The waves were bigger today than he's seen since the weather broke, and he was sloppily finishing up notes on a case study, burning to get out on the water. He'd worked a gruelingly busy afternoon shift, with wannabe surfer dudes and beach bunnies out looking for prey bombarding him and Paul with orders, their impatience just feeding the irritation behind the counter. When it had finally quieted down around dinner time, Deeks had immediately pulled out his work while Paul cleaned up a little before the after dinner rush.

"Hey!" Christine called from across the sand. She'd already taken off her cap and her hair streamed behind her as she ran across the beach.

Paul smiled—there was the blush—and waved, "Hey. How was work?"

Christine sighed and dropped onto the stool next to Deeks, plopping her bag into the sand. "Fine," she grumbled. "Were you guys just as busy as us?"

"Don't even get me started," Paul replied, bringing over a bottle of water. Christine uncapped it and took a generous drink before setting it back down.

"God, we had this mom, and I mean, seriously, who brings their kids to the beach in the middle of a school day? But anyway, this woman had, like, five little kids running around pulling all the stuff off the shelves and she wasn't doing _anything _about it and when I told them to quit messing up the store, she goes, 'Oh, they're just having a little fun' and completely ignored it."

Deeks and Paul looked at each other. "Was she wearing a green bathing suit with shorts?" Paul asked.

Christine's eyes widened, "Yes! Did you witness her horrible parenting too?"

"We may have been the ones to give the kids sodas and candy bars," Paul answered apologetically.

Christine mock glared at him for a second. "So you're the reason half the merchandise in our store is on the floor," she accused teasingly.

"Hey, she paid me. What else was I supposed to do?" He tossed back, laughter in his voice.

Christine shrugged, still grinning. "When do you get off? A couple of my friends are meeting up at Sal's tonight and they want to meet you."

Paul looked at the clock over the bar and said, "In about half an hour. That is, if Brian shows up on time for once. Give it 45?"

Christine smiled at him, and said, "Sure. I'm gonna get changed and hang out here for a bit, if that's cool."

"I haven't stopped you before," Paul teased, causing Christine to laugh as she stood up.

"Hey, Marty, you're free to come too, if you want," Christine said to Deeks, who had been listening to the conversation quietly.

"Ah, no, I'm going to have to turn you down. Gotta get this done," he pointed to the case studies with his pen. "Thanks, though."

Christine just shrugged and walked around the shack to changing room on the other side of the building. Paul watched her go and then turned to Deeks, a goofy grin on his face.

Deeks just smiled and shook his head. "You've got it bad, man."

"I won't even deny it," Paul said, dumping the contents of the blender into the trash and then rinsing it out under the tap. "I think this might actually work out. I just…Marty, I really like her."

"I can tell," Deeks laughed. "Meeting her friends? Dude, that's a step."

Paul put the blender back on the counter and turned, wiping his hands on a towel. There was that familiar worry in his eyes, and Deeks wondered when familiar with Paul started to mean worry and fear rather than just Paul. "You think they'll like me?"

Deeks put his pen down in his book and rested his forearms on the counter. "You get along with Christine pretty well; I don't see why her friends wouldn't like you."

"Yeah…you know I'm not the most confident person, though. What if I choke up?"

Deeks looked at his friend, and his lack of confidence was blatant in his posture, his face, his voice, every part of him was deflated, so different from how he acted around Christine. It was disconcerting for Deeks, who was used to Paul being the shadow to his show, to see his friend acting so confident around a girl and then turning around and voicing his concerns.

"Just go with it. Have a few drinks, maybe hold her hand. Trust me when I say she'll reciprocate. She's got it just as bad for you."

Paul's face lit up a little, "Really?"

"Dude," Deeks said, surprised. "Seriously, she's totally into you. Don't worry about that."

Paul's goofy grin was back and he said, "Thanks, man," just as Christine returned from the changing room.

"What are you guys talking about?" She asked, sitting back down.

"The waves," Paul lied smoothly.

Christine's hands flew up and she said, "Did you see those swells earlier? God, I could have been surfing, but instead I was making sure those grimy, sugar-hopped rugrats didn't destroy the store."

Deeks looked back down at his book and picked up his pen, shaking his head with a small smile.

* * *

><p>"Ok, Kens, look at me," Monica said, sitting cross legged on the couch. Her mouth was full, her hair was piled on top of her head, and she was makeup-less and wearing sweatpants. Not the Monica most people got to see, but Kensi was exempt from the population. There was a carton of chicken in between her legs, her fork having been momentarily abandoned inside. She swallowed and held up three DVDs, "<em>Legally Blonde, Love Actually, <em>or _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days_?"

Kensi chewed slowly, mulling over their choices. She swallowed and said, "Not _Love Actually_, that's a Christmas movie."

Monica put the DVD on the coffee table, where it fell between the bag of rice and sauces, and two open beers. She held up the remaining two movies in either hand, waving them up and down like she was a game show hostess.

_Legally Blonde _was getting much more airtime, however, and Kensi giggled and grabbed it from Monica's hand. "Why do you even give me a choice when I know we're going to end up watching this one?"

Monica shrugged and abandoned Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey's smirking faces alongside the other movie. "A little variety never hurt. But Elle Woods will forever be my idol."

Kensi rolled her eyes and hopped up from the couch to slide the DVD into the player. Her hair was in the same state as Monica's, and her old boxer shorts were never allowed to see the light of day. That's why she was wearing them for movie night. The start-of-the-year parties had died down and the semester was well under way, with everyone preparing for midterms. So this particular Friday night, Monica had come home with two movies from the rental place (she owned _Legally Blonde_) and put in an order for Chinese, and Kensi had uncapped two beers. In Kensi's opinion, _this_ was what a Friday night should look like: just two friends hanging out and watching movies. Even when she had been with Jack, it was a ritual that Kensi and Monica got together at least once a month for a girls' night, sometimes inviting Quinn or their other friends, but mostly it was just the two of them. It was a way for them to catch up after their busy schedules kept them from seeing each other for long periods of time. Even though they now lived together and saw each other all the time, their movie nights had not ceased. If anything, they'd become more frequent.

The previews for the movie started up and Monica settled back, taking another bite of her chicken. Kensi took a swig of her beer and settled in as well, tucking her feet under her. She leaned her head back against the couch and looked over at Monica, who was fiddling with her phone.

"What's up?" she asked.

Monica sighed and put the phone down on the table. "Nothing." Kensi raised an eyebrow. "Don't get weird on me, okay?" Both of Kensi's eyebrows shot up. "God, fine, okay. I've been talking to Will."

Kensi sat up a little straighter. "Will? Like, Will Peters? _Private_ Will Peters?"

"You said you wouldn't get weird!"

"I'm not!"

Monica huffed in exasperation. "Yes, _that _Will. I gave him my number at the party and we've been texting and chatting online. And now he's being really cryptic and not giving me straight answers."

"Will's a pretty cryptic guy in the first place," Kensi pointed out.

"Yeah, but we've been really progressing and now he's just completely stopped giving me anything to work with flirting-wise. It's so frustrating!"

Kensi really didn't have anything to say to that, but Monica did. "Could you, maybe, talk to him next time you see him?" She asked, a pleading look on her face.

"I don't know, Mon. He's kinda shy, maybe this is his way of saying he likes you."

"Come on, Kens, please? I like this guy," Monica said. Her voice was just short of whining.

"Fine."

Monica smiled and sat back in her seat. "Thank you."

They turned back to the movie, Monica pleased and Kensi just confused. It wasn't that she didn't want to help her friend. It was more that Monica had a way of making you do whatever she wanted. It was a gift, really, and it was going to make her a hell of a lawyer.

They watched as Warner broke up with Elle and Elle subsequently realized that Harvard was the only way to get her man back. Monica scoffed and said, "Honey, you can do so much better."

Kensi laughed, "You say that every time we watch this."

"I know. It doesn't mean it's not true."

By the time Elle had gone to the disastrous "costume" party—Monica cackled at her exchange with Vivian—and started to focus on being a lawyer, Kensi had finished her beer. She stood up and stretched her legs, grabbing her bottle. "You want another?" She asked, holding up her bottle.

Monica picked up her own bottle and drained it. "Yes, please."

Kensi picked up the remains of their dinner as well and threw it out. She grabbed two beers from the fridge and the pint of ice cream from the freezer, along with two spoons. Beer and ice cream weren't the greatest combination, but it was tradition, and Kensi wasn't going to break tradition.

She plopped back on the couch and took the cap off the ice cream, holding a spoon out to Monica. Monica tore her eyes away from the TV and took the spoon, grinning. "Yes," she said in glee. "Rocky Road!"

Kensi smiled and dug her spoon into the carton and took a bite. Monica did the same and they smiled at each other around their mouthfuls of ice cream.

Officially, their first movie night had been when all the girls in Monica's dorm had gotten together for a chick flick marathon their freshman year. Monica and Kensi were already good friends by then, so naturally, Monica invited Kensi. There'd been about three dozen girls crammed into the tiny common room, passing around cartons of ice cream and bowls of popcorn. Monica had snagged the Rocky Road immediately and she and Kensi held it hostage, passing it between themselves secretly, giggling the entire time.

There were other movie nights after that, of course, but the first time Monica and Kensi had a movie night with just the two of them was the fall of their sophomore year. By that time, they were best friends and knew everything about each other. So when the attacks in New York happened and Jack was called to based, Kensi called Monica, terrified that he would be called overseas to fight and needing someone to fill the space of the empty apartment with chatter and distraction. Monica picked up a movie, a pizza, and a carton of Rocky Road—which made Kensi laugh through her worry—and they ended up falling asleep in Kensi and Jack's bed. Jack had woken them up at six in the morning when he came in and almost sat on Monica on the bed, not knowing she was there.

Ever since, through stressful finals weeks, Monica's breakups, and Jack's deployments, it was always Rocky Road, and their movie nights hadn't changed. Of course, there were some things Rocky Road couldn't fix, but Kensi preferred not to think about that. She also tried not to think of how different it would be after this year. How these movie nights would probably cease to exist after graduation.

"Have you talked to Marty lately?" Monica asked, swallowing her ice cream and breaking Kensi out of her thoughts.

"No," Kensi answered slowly, wondering where she was going with this. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Monica replied. "You guys seemed to be on better terms at the party."

Kensi sighed and put down her spoon in the ice cream. "We were, and I think we are. It's just…I know what he wants out of this, but I don't know what _I _want. I don't know if I'm ready."

Monica put her spoon down, too and turned closer to Kensi, ignoring the movie. "You don't have to be ready for anything. He's a really great guy, and I think he gets that you need time. He's actually trying to figure you out," she said with a giggle. "It's really cute. I think you can trust him, Kens."

Kensi bit her lip and looked down, picking at the blanket. "It just feels weird, you know? I haven't thought about anyone but Jack in four years, and I feel like I'm betraying him somehow."

Monica put her hand on Kensi's knee and leaned in, looking into her eyes. "You don't owe Jack anything, Kensi. _He _left _you_. It's been almost a year. You deserve to be happy and to move on."

Their conversations about Jack were few and far between. Monica was always really careful with her words, Kensi knew, which was unusual for her chatty friend. But she didn't let that stop her from voicing her opinions of distaste for Jack. She had stood by Kensi's side throughout everything, and had been the first to notice that something was off with Jack. She'd told Kensi so, but Kensi refused to believe it until it was staring her in the face. Monica didn't blame Kensi or tell her "I told you so", though. Instead, she acted as a support for Kensi, letting her drift away when she needed to take care of Jack, and come back when she couldn't handle it. Kensi was grateful to have a friend who was so understanding and who she could trust with everything. To the world, she could handle anything, but she admitted to herself that not having someone to share her life with would be exhausting and hard.

Kensi nodded, looking up at her friend. "I don't know if I can do it," she said quietly, letting her vulnerability show. She wasn't sad, but scared.

Monica's hand on her knee squeezed and she said, "Give it a chance. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Hell, you never have before, why start now?"

Kensi snorted and rubbed her hands over her face, pushing her palms into her eyes. She let go and looked at Monica. "Thanks."

Monica sat back and picked up her spoon again. Smiling, she said, "Anytime." Then she bumped Kensi with her foot and pointed back at the screen. Kensi picked up her spoon and turned back to the screen as well, just in time to watch Elle's triumphant celebration of winning her internship.

* * *

><p>Kensi never really used the library her first few years of school. She'd always thought it was too quiet and solitary. Last January, however, she'd learned that those qualities were very helpful when she wanted to get away from her friends and their attempts to help her. Sometimes, being alone and surrounded by silence was just what she needed to forget, just for a few hours, and actually get some work done. Now that midterms were approaching, Kensi was spending nearly every day in the library, during the breaks she had between classes. She always situated herself in one the corners on the law floor, at a table that was mostly hidden from view behind a wall. On one side of her, there was a window that looked out over the quad. On the other, the wall to an office that Kensi had never seen anyone use. It was perfect.<p>

She was working away on her laptop, typing up a forensics report. She had two hours before her next class and it was the only time today that she'd be able to finish it. Otherwise, she'd have to do it after she got home from training tonight, and then it would take her way past her normal bedtime.

Kensi went to take a drink from her water bottle, but found that it was empty. Figuring that now was as good a time as any to take a break, she got up to refill it. The drinking fountain was on the other side of the floor, and Kensi walked between the stacks and banks of computers to get there. She passed a few people she knew and waved at them with a small smile, not stopping to say hello. She had no time to socialize today.

She was refilling her water bottle when she heard someone call her name in a whisper. She looked towards the staircase, where Deeks was just coming to the floor. He had a smile on his face and he waved as he walked over. Kensi stopped the stream of water and recapped her bottle.

"How did I know that I'd see you today?" She asked.

It was meant to be rhetorical; she had a feeling she'd run into him sometime soon since she and Monica had talked. But he answered anyway, "Because you haven't stopped thinking about me since the party?"

Kensi raised an eyebrow and said, "I wouldn't go that far."

Deek's mouth quirked into a grin, making her stomach flutter. "Mind if I work near you?"

Kensi shrugged, not trusting herself to say anything, and turned to go back to her corner, not sure if she minded or not. He followed, not giving her room to choose.

Deeks sat down across from her at the table and pulled his laptop out and plugged it in. It whirred to life as he set his notebooks and case files on the table. Kensi watched as the case files piled up. "How much do you have to do?" She asked in amazement.

Deeks grimaced. "A lot. Our professor is acting on a case right now and he's making us do all the dirty work."

"What kind of case?" Kensi asked, genuinely interested.

"Some cartel thing. He's the defense attorney, so of course we have to find stuff that helps the convicted. It's ridiculous that he even took this on; there's no way he's going to win it for these guys. There's too much stacked against them."

Kensi set her computer aside and leaned in, looking at the name on the case file. _Molina._ She pulled the top one towards her, "You mind?"

Deeks shrugged and shook his head, looking perplexed. Kensi opened up the file and skimmed the page, already knowing what it would say. It was basic information about Carlos Molina, stuff she already knew from working on the same case in her forensic and criminology classes. This was a big case. Carlos Molina, one half of the duo that headed up one of LA's most notorious cartels, had been caught at the scene of a triple homicide. The trials were due to start soon, and of course, some of the highest ranking lawyers in the city were working on it. A few of those lawyers—and the head of the forensics team that worked the scene—also happened to be professors.

"I'm working on the lab report for this case," she said, turning her laptop to face Deeks. He looked at it, confusion replaced by understanding.

"That stuff was done months ago. Is your professor just having you do it for exercise?"

"No. He found an inconsistency and wanted to see if we could spot it too."

"Did you?"

"Yes," Kensi answered, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. "There were three different forensic specialists in that warehouse. One was gathering evidence from Molina's office, one was examining the victims—that was my professor—and one was looking at the murder weapons."

"The gun, the syringe, and that damn coffee cup."

Kensi cracked a smile, "Right. Molina used the gun was used to shoot its owner: the cop. The bodyguard, Cesar, used the syringe full of air on one of the girls who were counting money, and supposedly, the cop used the coffee cup to knock Cesar unconscious. It ended up killing him, instead."

"What do you mean, 'supposedly'?" Deeks asked, looking closer at the report.

Kensi zoomed in on the screen and pointed, "My professor looks at his whole team's reports, just so he can catch stuff like this. That coffee cup? It has different fingerprints on it than any of the other weapons. One of the specialists must have messed up when he filled out the report. We know Molina used the gun and Cesar used the syringe, but the prints on the cup aren't a match to anyone in the case, not even the girl's."

"Sloppy paperwork," Deeks said. Kensi nodded in confirmation. "So…we have another murderer on the loose."

"Correct. Dr. Cramer should have turned in his findings by now and they'll be running the prints. Whether they get a match is up in the air."

"Were any unfamiliar prints found around the scene?" Deeks asked, using the touchpad on her computer to scroll through the report.

Kensi said, "Not that I know of. So what it seems like, is that whoever killed Cesar came in, did the deed, and left without any trouble. It's like he appeared out of thin air."

"Or she," Deeks pointed out.

"Or she," Kensi agreed.

"Wow," Deeks breathed, sitting back. "That throws an entire wrench into everything. We know that Molina shot the guy, but if there's evidence that there was another killer on the scene, he could argue his way out of this pretty easily, especially with Healy on the case."

Kensi cringed, "You have Healy?"

Deeks nodded grimly.

"God, he's an awful man," Kensi said, turning her computer back around. "Monica had him last year and he basically told her that the other job she would ever find would be in a strip club because no one was going to take her seriously for 'looking like that'." Kensi held up air quotes. "Sexist pig," she grumbled.

"I'm pretty sure he has a special hatred for me," Deeks said, pulling his case files back to his side of the desk. "Apparently, a scholarship kid like me is incapable of making it anywhere beyond Reseda. He's making it extra hard for me to graduate."

Kensi looked up from her computer. "It's against the law to discriminate against students," she said darkly, narrowing her eyes. "That's a bit ironic, don't you think?"

"Don't I know it," Deeks said, slapping one of the case folders closed. "But I'm graduating at the end of the year. It's just for another few months, and then I'll be free of him. I just have to show him that I'm capable."

Kensi glared for another moment and then turned back to her computer, starting to type on her keyboard in loud, punctuated taps.

* * *

><p>They worked in silence for a few minutes, Kensi's angry tapping fading back to the normal staccato of typing.<p>

Deeks looked up at her every now and then, catching the look of concentration on her face and smiling to himself. She was cute when she was angry. Of course, when her anger was aimed at him, it was scary, but anyone else, and her furrowed brow and heavy sighs were kind of adorable. Not that he'd ever tell her that to her face.

About a half hour passed and Kensi flipped her notebook closed. She gathered up her data reports and slipped them into a folder. "Done?" Deeks asked, looking up from a particularly gruesome police report on one of Molina's previous murders. He was enjoying her company regardless of the work, and he didn't want her to leave just yet.

"Finally," Kensi said, relief clear in her voice. "Now I don't have to worry about staying up late to finish it."

"Lucky you. I'll probably be up all night going through this stuff." He indicated the case file he was reading.

Hesitantly, Kensi said, "I could help you, if you want. I don't have to be to class for another hour."

Deeks' eyebrows shot up in surprise. She was offering to stick around? "Really?" he asked hopefully. "I mean, it's gruesome stuff."

Kensi crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "You don't think I can handle it?"

Deeks backtracked, "No! I mean, it's not that at all. It's more that I don't want to ruin your day."

Kensi scoffed a little and held up her folder, "I've been looking at pictures of three dead bodies for an hour. I'm pretty sure my day is already kind of ruined."

Deeks nodded in understanding and started to divide up the files. He handed half to Kensi, who pulled them towards her. "What am I looking for?" She asked.

"Anything that could make an argument for Molina's innocence, or at least a lesser sentence."

Kensi's brow furrowed and she looked at the case files. Then she looked up at him, fire in her eyes.

Before she could say anything, Deeks said, "I know it feels wrong to be defending the criminal."

"How can people stand doing it? It's not all about the money. There has to be some humanity," she said with conviction.

Deeks pressed his lips together and released them with a sigh. "Most lawyers do not want to help people," he said bitterly. "They want to help themselves."

"Reason number one why I didn't go into law."

"Oh, right," Deeks said, remembering. "Law enforcement. A cop. Kind of," he said, remembering her words in the quad.

"Kind of," Kensi confirmed, opening up the first case file and starting to read.

"What kind of cop?" Deeks asked. He knew that she had opened up the case file to indicate that she didn't really want to talk about it, but it wasn't Deeks if he wasn't pushing some buttons.

"The kind with a gun," Kensi said flatly.

"Yeah, and?"

Kensi looked up at him, searching his face. He was genuinely interested, even if he was joking a little bit while trying to get her to open up. Her eyes narrowed and she sighed in resignation before putting her hands over the case file. "I want to be a federal agent."

Deeks' eyes widened and he sat back in surprise. "Whoa. That's…wow."

"You can't tell anyone," Kensi said, going back to her file. "Especially not Monica," she muttered.

"Why?"

Still looking down at the file, she said, "Because she'll overreact. She thinks law enforcement is a dangerous career choice."

"Well, it is."

She looked up then and said defiantly, "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to do what makes me happy."

"Good point," Deeks said. At first, the news that she wanted to be a cop made her a dozen times hotter, but her ambition and conviction? That sent her off the charts. Deeks could feel himself starting to reach the peak of the crush, the point before falling away into territories unknown. It was a dangerous slope to attempt, especially with a girl like Kensi, but he wanted it just as badly as he was afraid of it. "And helping people, being a badass, and saving the day, that's what makes you happy?"

Kensi looked up at him and smiled a little, "Yeah, the helping people part. Being a badass is just a perk."

Deeks grinned at that. Then, he realized something and his eyes widened. He said, "So does that mean you can shoot a gun?"

Her eyebrow lifted at his excitement. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Why?"

"I've always wanted to learn how to shoot a gun," Deeks said wistfully, choosing not to tell her that he already had, once. But then, he hadn't really _learned_ how to shoot. It wasn't a complete lie. "If you weren't badass before, you definitely are now. Badass Blye." He grinned cheekily at his joke.

Kensi rolled her eyes and said, "Get back to work, Deeks." But he could see the smile she tried to hide, and he liked that he was the one who had caused it.

"So is that why there were Marines at you and Monica's party?"

Kensi sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I train with them. Now, can we get back to work, please?"

"One more question?" Deeks asked. She closed her eyes briefly and nodded, probably willing herself to be patient. It made Deeks want to tease her more, but he held back, not wanting to push too far. "Will you teach me to shoot?"

Her eyes opened and a disbelieving laugh bubbled its way out of her mouth. "Are you serious?"

Deeks nodded, putting on a serious face. She watched him for a moment and said, "We'll see."

He couldn't hide his grin, which caused her to roll her eyes again and fight not to smile back, "Get back to work, Deeks."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I'm so sorry it's been a few weeks since I posted, but I ran into an awful case of writer's block last week, which probably had something to do with the massive amounts of boring research essays I've been writing lately. They're sucking all the creativity right out of me! I finally finished, though, and I think you guys will really like this chapter. And I _know_ you're going to _love_ the next chapter, but you have to read this one to find out what's happening next. Enjoy and don't forget to follow/favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>The shots drummed through her, roaring in her ears and pounding through her brain. She'd become used to the kickback of a sniper rifle and it's didn't even faze her anymore. Breathe in for four counts, breathe out for four, shoot. Steady hands, steady mind, control. Keep your eye on the target. The targets fell, one after the other.<p>

Corporal Jennings' voice came through her ear bud, "Good, Blye. We're done for the day, come on down." Kensi pulled away from the scope and rolled over, tucking the gun against her chest. She stood and climbed down from the tower, careful not to slip on the metal stairs, which were covered in loose dust that had been blown in with the winds.

Kensi reached the ground and jogged over to the group. Corporal Jennings nodded at her and said, "Alright men, jog back to camp and get cleaned up for dinner." The Marines promptly turned and began to jog back in an orderly line. Kensi turned to follow, but Jennings' voice stopped her. "Not you, Blye. There's someone here who wants to speak to you."

Kensi turned back, furrowing her brow. "Who?"

Jennings shrugged, "Someone from higher up. I have orders to bring you back to camp."

Still confused, Kensi followed him to his truck parked beside the tower and loaded her rifle into one of the cases in the back—the Marines had jogged back with theirs—and then climbed into the passenger seat. Jennings started up the truck and put it in drive.

After a few minutes, he said, "You're doing really well out there. Better than most of my men. Still sure you don't want to join up? Even as an intelligence analyst, you'd be valuable."

Kensi laughed. This was not a new argument from Jennings, even though he knew the answer would always be the same. "I'd rather use my skills to keep you guys safe. Thanks, though."

Jennings smiled, something he did very rarely, and it showed. "It's always worth a shot."

Kensi smiled back and looked out the window, watching as the gates to the camp came into view. She realized suddenly that she was dusty and sweaty, and not in any shape to be facing someone from higher up the line. She fussed with her hair, redoing her ponytail and smoothing away the stubborn flyaways. Jennings looked over with a bemused expression, but he didn't say anything.

The truck stopped in front of the main administrative building and Kensi got out. "You'll take care of my gun for me?" She asked.

Jennings nodded and said, "Good luck. You're going places, Blye." And then he drove away, leaving a bewildered Kensi behind. _What was that supposed to mean?_

She dusted off her clothes as best she could and then walked into the building. The secretary, Bridget, smiled at her and sent her through to the Sergeant's office. Kensi knocked.

"Come in," called an unfamiliar voice that was certainly not Sergeant Fredericks'. Kensi entered.

She'd been to the Sergeant's office quite a few times over the past few years. He had been a friend of her father's, and because of that, he had allowed her to start training with the Marines. He'd treated her like a daughter almost, though his gruff, military presence did not invoke a fatherly image in Kensi's mind. He had vowed to help her become an agent, though, and made sure that she was treated just like the other men. For that, Kensi was beyond appreciative.

Fredericks' office looked the same as it usually did, though his red leather chair did not hold the Sergeant. Rather, it held someone quite different, and not at all what Kensi was expecting. She balked slightly.

"Hello, Ms. Blye. Please, sit down," the woman said, gesturing toward the chair that sat on the other side of Fredericks' desk. Kensi sat down, trying to smooth out her clothes under the observant gaze of the small, but very intimidating woman.

"My name is Henrietta Lange," the woman said. She held out a small hand and Kensi reached across the desk to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you," Kensi replied.

"I am the head of NCIS's Los Angeles branch, the Office of Special Projects. I've heard many good things about you from Corporal Jennings and Sergeant Fredericks," the woman said quietly. Her voice was almost comforting, if it didn't hold a razor's edge of no-nonsense. It was a voice that had been practiced, Kensi realized. It was controlled and calculated and though this woman had seen a lot, she probably said very little. Kensi understood that what she did say was probably extremely important. She sat up straighter.

"Sergeant Fredericks tells me that you're interested in joining NCIS as an agent."

"That's correct," Kensi replied. "I'll be turning in my application for training soon."

Ms. Lange leaned forward and laced her fingers together on the desktop, settling her magnetic gaze on Kensi. "What if I told you that there was no need to turn in your application? I've seen you in action, Ms. Blye, and I think you would be a great addition to my team. No paperwork needed." Kensi sat stunned. "You would, of course, still have to go through the training course as well as a series of interviews, but I could fast track you through the application and physical examination processes," the woman said. She looked at Kensi sagely through her spectacles, waiting for an answer.

It took a moment for Kensi to find the words, but she finally stuttered out, "Thank you, Ms. Lange. That's an incredible offer."

"But…?" the woman prompted, picking up on Kensi's hesitation.

"It's a big decision," Kensi explained, twisting her fingers together in her lap. "I still have seven months left of school, and I'd planned to move out to DC in the summer and start training in the fall."

Ms. Lange's eyes softened slightly and she said. "I would never expect you to quit your schooling, Ms. Blye. On the contrary, I was hoping you would graduate with honors, as you seem to be preparing to do, and join the summer training course. It _is _a large decision, though, and I understand if you would like to take time to think about it."

Kensi relaxed slightly, relieved that she wouldn't be expected to make a choice so abruptly. "Thank you, Ms. Lange" she said. "I really do appreciate the offer."

"I know you do." She pulled out a business card and handed it across the desk to Kensi, who took it, trying not to smudge it with her dusty fingers. "Call me when you make a decision, Ms. Blye. Preferably before the applications are due in three weeks' time. I wouldn't want you to miss out on this opportunity."

Kensi looked up and nodded wordlessly, rolling the words around in her head. Finally, she said, "Thank you, Ms. Lange. I'll let you know soon."

Ms. Lange smiled and nodded. "I look forward to your call. And please, Ms. Blye, call me Hetty."

Taking that as her cue to leave, Kensi stood and left the office, the shock and realization finally starting to hit her. She looked down at the business card in her hand, taking in the tiny print and running her finger over the NCIS seal at the top. This was her future, everything she had wanted since her father had died, and it was right in her hand. How could it have possibly happened so fast?

* * *

><p>" , would you care to enlighten the class on your findings?"<p>

Deeks groaned inwardly and tried to summon some patience, but it was nearly the end of class, he was hungry, and Dr. Healy's voice tended to grate at him just enough that whatever patience he had left was wearing thin.

Chelsea, sitting next to him, nudged him with her foot. Deeks looked up, putting on a smile. "Of course, though I have some new information that you might find interesting," he said, watching as Healy's sour face twisted into an even bitterer scowl.

"Really," the professor said, his disbelief evident. "Please, I'm sure we'd all love to hear it."

Deeks cleared his throat and flipped through his folder to the copies of the reports Kensi had made. They weren't the official reports, of course, but he'd already spoken to Dr. Cramer, who had told him the new reports were being processed, and that they were sure to be correct this time around.

"I spoke to Dr. Cramer in the forensics department. He headed up the team that examined the crime scene. In another, closer examination, it seems that there was an inconsistency with the fingerprints found at the scene," Deeks said. He could hear the slight shuffling and murmuring of the class around him. Healy kept quiet. "The set of fingerprints on the coffee cup used to kill Cesar Muñez are not a match to any of the other victims or suspects present at the crime scene. There was another person present at the times of the murders, and he or she also committed a murder."

Now, the class was whispering. Deeks could feel Chelsea beside him, turned fully towards him in surprise.

"And how did you find this information, Mr. Deeks?" Healy asked, his voice effectively quieting the room.

Confused, Deeks repeated himself, "I talked to Dr. Cramer." As happy as he was the Kensi had been the one who actually told him, Deeks was not about to tell Healy that he'd gotten his information from an "unreliable source." He _had_ talked to Dr. Cramer, so it wasn't a complete lie.

"Yes, but what led you to do that? The assignment was to read through the case files to find evidence to support Mr. Molina, not to go searching for new evidence."

Feeling the frustration bubbling inside of him, Deeks replied, "I went straight to the source of the information so I could make sure it was all true. I wanted to make sure there weren't any inaccuracies that could jeopardize Mr. Molina's freedom." He said the last part bitterly, earning him another nudge from Chelsea. About half the class was under the same mindset that helping a known felon go free was immoral, but Healy had made it very clear from day one that they shouldn't make their opinions about that known.

Now, Healy's eyes narrowed and he stared Deeks down. Deeks stared back, challenging the professor. "Did you find anything else, Mr. Deeks?" Healy asked quietly.

Deeks had to look away first in order to look down at his notes. He looked back up and keeping his voice level, he said, "There's a killer on the loose, Dr. Healy. I would suggest that we focus on that, and the fact that Molina only murdered one person instead of two. The science doesn't lie."

"The maybe you should join the forensics department, since law clearly isn't your strong suit. We look at what has been presented in the reports, not at the science, Mr. Deeks. You didn't follow the assignment, and therefore I am going to have to wipe your participation marks for today."

Deeks couldn't contain himself any longer, the pressure of the day, and of two years' worth of bullying building up and spilling over. "I looked at the facts and they didn't add up, so I went digging for the truth. You should be thanking me. This could save Molina double the sentence and you know it."

"I have a strict policy about following the assignment, Mr. Deeks," Healy said coldly, his disdain for Deeks vividly etched in his face, "and you didn't follow it. We are not the police, we are lawyers. We do not go 'digging', we fight the case. Get that into your head, Mr. Deeks, or you may not find yourself with a job after graduation. And to clear up any confusion, that was indeed a threat."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chelsea burst out, followed by a number of their classmates. They had been witness to the sparring matches between the two men for the better part of their two years in law school, and apparently today was also a boiling point for many of them.

Amidst the chatter, Deeks gathered his backpack and the case files and stood up. He was done fighting, and any further argument would only hurt him more. The class quieted down a little when he reached the front of the room. He dumped the case files onto Healy's desk and turned to leave.

Healy's voice followed him, "Class is not over, Mr. Deeks."

Deeks didn't even turn around. He opened the door, letting in the early evening sunshine, and he said, "It is for me."

* * *

><p>Kensi wasn't ready to go home and face Monica. She knew that telling her about the conversation with Ms. Lange—Hetty—would start an argument. Monica was a worrier, the maternal figure of their group of friends, and her need to protect everyone was innate and had been the cause of a number of arguments whenever Kensi brought up the idea of law enforcement. Kensi didn't want to imagine what kind of argument would ensue once she told Monica about actually being accepted.<p>

Not only did Kensi not want to go home to tell Monica, but she also really didn't know whether she wanted to accept the offer. It was her dream, of course, and the obvious decision was to accept, but it was also a big move. This would be the first big step she'd take after college and Kensi felt like this was one of those moments that could make or break her future. She wanted to make the right decision. For as reckless as she could be, Kensi wanted to take her time with this one.

Rather than going home, Kensi found herself pulling into the parking lot at the beach and climbing up the dunes behind the surf shack. There was a path that led up to a cliff face that looked over the ocean. It was usually very private and isolated, and one of her favorite places to go to think.

She sat in the sand at the top and looked out over the ocean. The sun was starting to set and while the waves were perfect for surfing, there were very few surfers out on the water or on the sand. She hadn't even walked by the surf shack, so she didn't know who was working, but she found herself wishing that she could talk to Deeks. No one but him knew that she was hoping to be a federal agent. She honestly didn't know why she'd told him; she barely knew him. But having someone to talk to, to ask for advice and reassurance, it would be nice right about now.

So Kensi did what she always did, she tried to think about what her father would tell her. It was part of the reason she loved this spot. It was the kind of place her father would have enjoyed and she felt closer to him here, not only by how high it was, but in the proximity to the ocean and the exposure to the wind and the sun. Kensi had spent most of her childhood at the beach or in forest campgrounds or even in the small backyards of their various houses. Her father had believed in the connection of oneself to the elements and while Kensi wasn't fully invested in that belief, she always felt solace when she was outdoors. She felt more connected somehow, so maybe there was something to be said about it.

She blew out a breath and watched the horizon. The sun wasn't so low yet that she was staring directly at it, but it was getting close, and she squinted against it. She had a future, she realized. She'd been dreaming about having a future, of course, but it had all been so uncertain until this point. Now, it was right there and all she had to do was grab it. Her father would have probably told her to take it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It was rare for them to come to you, if that ever happened. This could be the rest of her life. A job with NCIS in Los Angeles, close to Monica and her adoptive family, and all her friends; it was perfect, really. Kensi sighed. She didn't know what was causing this apprehension, this block, but it was there and the excuses were building up quickly.

* * *

><p>Deeks pulled up to the beach, got out of his car, and slammed the door. He wasn't one to get angry; he'd learned to control his emotions from a young age. And now, he was trying desperately not to let his frustration show. He got his board out of the back and grabbed his wetsuit, changing quickly in the parking lot. Then he ran down the sand without even warming up or waving to whoever was working the shack. He hit the water hard, paddling out as fast and hard as he could. He channeled all of his pent up anger at Healy into the water. He felt the salt spray and the wind hit his face, cooling the hatred and embarrassment, enveloping him in the only solace he knew.<p>

A wave came up in front of him and Deeks ducked below it, sliding along his board like a fish, hearing only the dull roar of the wave riding over him before surfacing again and breathing deeply. The quiet moment beneath the water snapped him out of it and his anger started to fade. He was still breathing fast, trying to quell the emotions, but the moment of silence, away from the world, served to relax him, as it usually did. Deeks sat on his board in the water, straddling it and watching the orange horizon. What was he going to do? Healy was clearly in the wrong, but there was no way he was going to let Deeks back into his class after this. And Deeks wasn't going to entertain the thought of fighting it; Healy had the upper hand in this one and there was no use arguing. He was one of the best lawyers in the state for a reason.

Deeks caught the next wave, turning and paddling with it before pushing himself onto the board, focusing solely on the motions, forgetting everything except the water and the wind and where he was standing on the board. His mind was on the ride, the thrill, and it wasn't the greatest wave, but giving into his instincts felt good. He cut the top of the wave, turning furiously before coming back down and diving in when the wave died out. He resurfaced and paddled back out without taking a break.

* * *

><p>A new surfer had run down the beach, the figure entering the water with a splash. Kensi watched, impressed as he surfed wave after wave without taking a break, hitting every single one without mistake. Her thoughts of the job offer turned to thoughts of her father, the memories riding the wave of emotions building inside of her. He had never taught her how to surf. She remembered when she was very young, going to the beach with her parents in Texas and her father taking a surfboard and Kensi wanting so badly to get out on it. Her mother deemed it unsafe; she was afraid of the water, or of what was in the water, Kensi didn't know. Either way, she didn't let Kensi go farther than her waist, even with her father there. As Kensi had gotten older, trips to the beach became fewer and fewer, and by the time her mother left, her father was working more often, with less time to take Kensi on excursions. Now, watching the surfers, sitting in her spot, Kensi felt the nostalgic longing to learn how to surf. It was a strange feeling, one she hadn't felt in a very long time, and it pricked in her chest, causing tears to burn behind her eyes. She hastily looked away from the water and gripped the sand in her hands, trying not to surrender to tears. What a day she was having, bouncing from emotion to emotion. As she pondered this, the biggest of emotion of them all came to the surface, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it. About him. But Jack was as constant in everything she thought about as her father, and her feelings of betrayal and guilt were never far behind the image of his face in her mind.<p>

Before she could think too much harder about it, and before the feelings could overwhelm her and break her carefully constructed façade, Kensi stood up and briskly brushed the sand off her clothes, tucking the business card carefully back in her pocket before making her way back down the dune, furiously swiping away the few tears that managed to escape.

* * *

><p>Deeks surfed until his body couldn't take it anymore. By then, his mind couldn't take the anger anymore, either. He was exhausted and just wanted to go home and fall into bed and not think about what the next day would bring. It had to be better than today, didn't it?<p>

He waded out of the water and plopped his board into the sand before peeling his wetsuit down to his waist. The sun was nearly to the horizon and the shadows were starting to lengthen, cooling the sand and the air. As the wind hit Deeks' wet skin, he shivered slightly, goosebumps rising on his arms. He unstrapped his board from his ankle and carried it up the beach to his car, where he dried off with a towel, threw on a t-shirt, and stowed the board back in the trunk.

Deeks got into the car and started it up, thankful that it was still warm on the inside. He checked his rearview quickly and pulled out, itching to get home. The squeal of tires and a horn honking angrily had him stepping on the brake immediately.

* * *

><p>Kensi had seen the little car preparing to back out, but she hadn't expected it to shoot out so fast, and it was thanks to her trained reflexes that she stopped so quickly, or she most definitely would have hit the other car. She honked her horn and the brake lights on the car lit up and then turned off as the driver put the car into park, signaling that he or she was allowing Kensi to go first.<p>

Kensi huffed and tentatively let up on the brakes. The car rolled forward and she was just about to turn her head to look forward when she saw a head of blonde curls peek out of the window. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself. Of course it was him. Why had she thought any different?

She braked again and rolled down the passenger window. "Running into me can only go so far," she called.

Deeks leaned farther out his window and grinned when he saw her. Kensi rolled her eyes, but her chest felt significantly lighter at that smile.

He got out of his car and came up to the open window, leaning in. The smell of fresh saltwater joined him. "You know, we should probably just exchange numbers so we can _plan_ to run into each other rather than by accident," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Smooth," Kensi told him, but she grabbed her phone out of the center console and handed it over.

He held his hand out tentatively, as if she were going to pull hers away at the last second. "Really? I was just joking. Well, kind of."

"You might want to do it before I change my mind," Kensi replied.

Deeks took the phone and entered his number. He handed it back after a few moments and said, "I texted myself so I have your number, too."

"Smart."

"I know." He grinned again. He tended to do that. A lot. Kensi's stomach flipped, which it tended to do whenever he grinned. And since he grinned pretty much incessantly, her stomach seemed to be perpetually in knots.

"What are you doing down here this late?" Deeks asked, leaning farther into the car. A few drops of water dripped from his hair onto the passenger seat.

Kensi thought for a second about telling him the truth, like she'd wanted to do earlier, but now that seemed like a stupid idea. "I was on my way home from training and wanted a break and some fresh air before I go burry myself in homework." Not a total lie, but far enough from the truth to be safe.

"Training as in gun training?" Deeks said, his eyes lighting up. "You know you still owe me a shooting lesson?"

"I said I'd think about it," Kensi corrected him. "And yes, I was shooting today."

"That's why it smells like gunpowder in here," Deeks said, sniffing theatrically.

Kensi shook her head at him and then furrowed her brow. "How do you know what gunpowder smells like if you've never shot a gun?"

The surprise in his face was fleeting, but Kensi caught it. She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning him silently. He scratched the back of his head and looked down at the ground. "I never said I hadn't shot a gun before," he said. "Just that I'd always wanted to learn."

Kensi nodded thoughtfully, choosing not to question him further, but still wondering what on earth that could mean. He respected her secrets, though, so she was going to respect his, whatever they were.

He looked up and smiled cautiously. "So?"

"So what?"

"Are you going to come through on your promise?"

"I never promised you anything!" Kensi exclaimed. She looked at his wet hair, which was curling as it dried, and then at the water, where the last surfers were heading home. A smile started to form on her face.

Deeks looked at her out of the corner of his eye suspiciously. "Why are you smiling?"

"I'll make you a deal," Kensi said.

"I'm listening."

She took a deep breath, summoning her courage before jumping in. "I'll teach you how to shoot, if you teach me how to surf."

Deeks' eyebrows quirked up. "You want to learn how to surf?"

Kensi nodded seriously. "I've never done it before."

Deeks shrugged and smiled easily before holding out a hand. "Deal."

Taken aback by his easy acceptance, Kensi leaned across the center console and shook his hand. "Deal."

Kensi released his hand first and smiled at him, a childish excitement taking over her and giving her more courage than she knew what to do with. "When are you free?"

Deeks thought for a second before he said, "Saturday? I have shift at the shack until 2, but I'm good after that."

Kensi scrolled through her mental schedule and then answered, "Saturday's good. And the training course is open to the public on Tuesdays, and I can get you into the shooting range if you're good then."

Tuesday was a week from today, and the rational part of Deeks was telling him that he should go to Healy's class next week and put on a face, but the part of him that liked adventures—and liked Kensi—was telling him that skipping class would be a welcome reprieve from being bullied next week. He nodded. "Yeah, I'm free."

Kensi looked at her watch and said. "I really should be getting home. So, 2 on Saturday?"

Deeks nodded and grinned. "2 on Saturday," he repeated.

Kensi smiled back and Deeks leaned away from the car, waving as she drove away, a goofy grin lighting up his face.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm so so so sorry for the ridiculous amount of time it's taken me to post this. Thank you all so much for being patient with me. The Densi relationship takes a pretty significant turn in this chapter, and I was trying to figure out how to handle it when the doomed finals week reared its ugly head, so I decided to take a break, but it turned into a much-too-long hiatus and for that, I am so sorry. Thanks for sticking around, and thanks to those of you who messaged me and urged me to continue. I'm not giving up, I promise!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>"You're home late," Monica said as Kensi walked in the door. She was on the couch watching some reality show. Her laptop was perched on her knees and papers and notebooks were scattered around her. She had a highlighter in her hand and pen stuck in her bun, and her glasses—which she rarely wore— were sliding down her nose. She pushed them up as she looked at Kensi.<p>

"Yeah, I stopped at the beach on the way. Needed to clear my head," Kensi explained. She plunked her bag down and went into the kitchen, where she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She turned to see Monica smiling at her expectantly. "What?"

Monica put her laptop on the table and hopped up, sending papers fluttering to the floor. "Are you sure you didn't stop at the beach for another reason? A certain surfer boy-related reason?" She sidled up next to Kensi and elbowed her playfully.

Kensi shoved Monica gently away, laughing. "No," she said defensively, though she could feel her cheeks reddening.

Monica wiggled her eyebrows at Kensi before turning to pull out a foil wrapped plate from the fridge. "You saw him though. You're blushing!" She unwrapped the foil, exposing chicken and rice. "Sauce?"

Kensi leaned back against the counter and took a swig of the cold water. It felt good after her afternoon on the dusty shooting range. "No, thanks. I'll put it on after. And yes, I did see him there. He was surfing."

Monica put the plate in the microwave and turned it on. She turned around and looked Kensi straight in the eye. "The fact that you two keep running into each other by accident has got to mean something. Accidents don't just happen."

Kensi raised an eyebrow. "We go to the same school, Monica. It was a matter of time before we met."

"Yeah, but you've gone three years without ever meeting the guy and now you're running into him a couple times a week? That's fate, Kensi. Don't ignore it."

"I'm not," Kensi said, trying to suppress the smile that was finding its way to her face. "We, uh, we made plans for this weekend."

Monica squealed, loudly. "Kensi! Oh, my God! A date! Finally!" She jumped up and down excitedly.

Kensi laughed at her friend's reaction. "It's not really a date," she said, though at the heart of it, she knew that was exactly what it was.

"So," Monica drew out the word as the microwave beeped. "What are you guys doing?" She turned and took the steaming plate out of the microwave. Kensi took the sauce from the fridge and nudged Monica out of the way so she could put the sauce on herself. Monica was fussy about food, even leftovers, and Kensi had learned to let Monica make the food, but she had drawn the line at condiments. Kensi preferred to do that herself.

Not looking up from the rice and chicken, Kensi said, "He's going to teach me how to surf."

"Awww. That's so cute," Monica squealed again. "Speaking of cute, did you talk to Will yet?"

Kensi hesitated. She _had_ talked to Will. He was as nice and shy as ever, but… "Yeah, I did."

"And? What'd he say?"

Kensi grimaced and looked up at Monica, who registered Kensi's expression, her own face falling. "He has a girlfriend, Mon. I'm so sorry."

Monica looked down at the ground and Kensi wanted to reach out and hug her. She'd felt the same way when Will told her regretfully that he hadn't meant to lead Monica on and that he'd made a mistake. She'd been angry, of course, but more saddened for Monica's sake.

Monica looked up and took a breath, letting it out slowly before saying, "I had a feeling that's what was going on." Kensi tried not to look at her pityingly, but it was proving to be difficult. Monica was notorious for being able to act like nothing was wrong when it came to men, but Kensi had known her long enough to be able to tell when the cracks in her façade started to show. Now, even though her face and body were carefully controlled, Monica pressed her lips together and swallowed. Kensi could see her jaw clench as she struggled not to emote.

"Monica, I'm really sorry."

"No, you know what? I'm fine. He made a dumb decision. I'm not going to be the other woman. I have higher standards than that." She clenched her fists together and released them, shaking out her hands. Then, she smiled. This was something Monica was very good at and even Kensi sometimes had trouble discerning the real smiles from the fake ones.

"You sure?"

"Yes," Monica said decisively. "I'm good. Now, eat your dinner and go shower. You stink."

"Okay, mom," Kensi mocked, earning a genuine smile from her friend.

When Kensi got out of the shower later, the TV was still going, but the sound was low enough that she heard Monica sigh and sniffle and then a faint hiccup. When she went out into the living room, Monica looked up with a smile and patted the seat beside her. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell she was crying.

* * *

><p>Saturday turned out to be perfect for surfing. The temperatures had risen all week, and the winds had died down a little, making the waves smaller and less threatening. Deeks opened up the shack that morning and was immediately swamped with early morning surfers waiting for their coffee. By the time Paul came in at 10—with Christine and her board in tow—there was a steady line of customers, and the two men barely had time to say hello to each other before they had orders to fill.<p>

Thankfully, the shack didn't serve meals more substantial than soft pretzels, so many of the beachgoers headed down the boardwalk for lunch, leaving a few minutes' breathing time for Deeks and Paul. Christine had long since finished up her time on the water, and was laying on her towel a few hundred yards away, soaking up the sun. Paul couldn't stop staring.

"So how's it going for you two?" Deeks asked.

Paul looked at him and suppressed a smile. "Fantastic. She um…she stayed over the other night."

Deeks clapped a blushing Paul on the back. "That's great man. Have you made anything official yet?"

Paul looked out over the sand at Christine. She had sat up and was fiddling with her iPod. Once she was satisfied with whatever she had been looking for, she wound her long hair into a bun on the top of her head and laid back down. "No," he finally said. "She hasn't really given me any indication that that's what she wants to do. She seems to really like her independence, you know?"

Deeks nodded thoughtfully, noting Paul start to transform under the weight of his insecurity. Before he could slump underneath it, though, Deeks said, "Maybe you should take charge. I mean, that might be what she's waiting for."

Paul's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "She's waiting for me to bring it up?"

"It's possible." Deeks shrugged. "Communicate with her. She spent the night at your place, she's gotta be somewhat committed."

Paul looked over at Christine again and hesitated. "I guess," he said slowly. "I just don't want to scare her off."

Deeks shrugged and turned to help a customer. After he had exchanged money for a soda, he turned back to Paul, who had returned to watching Christine. "Hey, man, it's your relationship and I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I think that if you really like her, you should take that chance."

Paul bit his lip and nodded, more to himself than to what Deeks had said. Before either of them could say anything more, a family came up to the counter, effectively distracting them from the conversation for the rest of Deeks' shift.

* * *

><p>Kensi pulled into the parking lot of the beach and rolled up her windows. She felt a wave of nerves roll over her all of sudden. She had been uncharacteristically bold when she'd asked him to teach her how to surf, and now she was rethinking that decision. The doubts were starting to make a reappearance. Doubts about this…date, or whatever it was. Doubts about getting closer to Deeks. Doubts about telling him and showing him things about herself that she knew would change his perception of her, because God knows he had a way of getting them out of her.<p>

_No._ Kensi took a deep breath and pushed her car door open, determined not to drown in her grief and second thoughts. She was going to be happy today. It was about time she was allowed to be happy. She'd had a glimpse of it a few weeks ago at the party and now, she'd do anything to get that feeling back.

Kensi slipped her sunglasses over her nose and scanned the beach, her eyes coming to rest on the surf shack. She saw Paul behind the counter and Christine leaning on the other side, laughing at something he'd said. Kensi smiled to herself, pleasantly surprised to see that they were still hitting it off.

"Looking for me?" a voice said behind her. Kensi turned to see Deeks heading towards her across the parking lot, two boards propped beneath his arms, a wetsuit laying over one of them. He was wearing only a pair of board shorts and they rode low on his hips. Kensi swallowed and looked him in the eye.

"I was under the impression we had an appointment," she said stiffly, internally cringing at how formal that sounded. _Jesus, Kens, pull yourself together_.

Deeks' eyebrows quirked up and he smirked. "'An appointment'? This isn't the dentist," he teased.

Kensi was glad for the sunglasses covering her face, or he would have surely seen her blush. She waved her hand toward the beach. "So?"

Deeks smiled and shook his head. He walked toward her and handed her one of the boards. Before she could take it fully under her arm, and before he could let go of it, he leaned in and said softly, the smile disappearing for a moment, "Hey, relax, okay? I'm not expecting anything of you. Just fun."

Kensi nodded and blew out a breath. "Fun, it is." His smile returned. Then he led the way down to the water.

A few yards away from where the water met the sand, Deeks held up the wetsuit and dropped his board in the sand. Kensi dropped her board as well, and saw that it was much longer and rounder than his. He caught her looking at it and explained, "It's a training board. It provides a lot more stability." Kensi nodded. He held the wetsuit out to her. "I thought you might want this. Bikinis aren't really the greatest thing to wear when surfing. You don't want anything…falling out." He waved his arm vaguely at her chest.

Kensi gave him a look and said, "That's gross. But thank you." She took the wetsuit from him. She turned slightly away from him and pulled her shirt over her head, and then slid out of her shorts. She was aware that she was giving him somewhat of a show, and she could feel his gaze sliding over her. She was proud of her body, of course, but that didn't mean she was going to flaunt it. She quickly wiggled into the wetsuit, pulling up the zipper with the long cord in the back.

She turned back towards him and said, "I feel ridiculous in this."

He suppressed a laugh and said, "Everyone does their first time. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

After Kensi wiggled around a little more, adjusting the wetsuit so it fit right, she said, "So, what's first?"

* * *

><p>This…whatever it was—a date? A surfing lesson?—was going well, Deeks thought. Kensi was a quick learner, and she didn't whine or get frustrated like a lot of girls would, usually in order to get him to help them (read: touch them). She was determined to stand up on the board at least once before the day was over. It'd been hours, and both of them were sunburnt and tired, but she was relentless.<p>

"Okay, this time, make sure to keep your core tight. Center your weight low over the board," Deeks instructed. They were sitting next to each other in the water, each straddling their boards. "Lucky you, your center of gravity is lower than mine." Without thinking about it, he looked her up and down.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really," she said, her tone conveying how unimpressed she was.

"What? It's science!"

"Well, keep your _science_ to yourself," she said, smirking. It'd taken her a while to get warmed up to him, but now they were teasing each other freely, though he was still holding back on some things. There was no way he was going to ruin this day by overstepping the line.

"Fair enough," he replied, grinning. He spotted a wave swelling in the distance and said, "You wanna catch this one?"

Kensi nodded, a look of determination crossing her face. "This is the one," she said, turning the board to face the beach and looking over her shoulder as the wave approached.

"Ready?" Deeks asked as the wave grew.

"Ready," Kensi said. She started paddling just before it reached them, exactly as he had taught her.

Deeks watched as she paddled hard and rose up into a push up, tentatively standing up on the board. She stood in a crouch, finding her balance. Deeks grinned, his surfer's instinct telling him that this was definitely going to be her wave.

Kensi stood, her arms out for balance. Confidently, she straightened up, finding her place on the board and on the wave. Deeks whooped, cheering her on, and she pumped her fists, still facing forward toward the beach.

Suddenly, as if in slow motion, Kensi pitched forward, losing her balance. Her arms flailed and the board popped out from under her, one end flying up and around to hit Kensi in the head. She fell into the water along with the board, and the wave swept over both.

Deeks didn't even take a moment to be shocked. He started forward, paddling hard on his board. His chest felt tight as adrenaline surged through him. He was a few feet away from where she went under when she popped up, gasping for air. Deeks slid off of his board and swam over to her, dragging the board behind him. "Kensi! Kensi, are you okay?" He grabbed under her arms and pulled his board over for them to use as a raft.

Kensi coughed up water and gulped in air, but she seemed alert and once Deeks was sure she could hold on to the board, he let her go. "Kensi?"

"I'm fine, Deeks. Give me a second to breathe."

Deeks tried not to hover over her while she caught her breath, and the way she rolled her eyes at him made him back off a little. When she seemed to be able to breathe normally, Deeks said, "Think you can make it back to the beach?"

She nodded and Deeks propelled them back towards the shore, keeping his arm out beside her in case she lost her grip on the board.

They waded out of the water, and as soon as they were on dry sand, Deeks dropped his board to the ground and stopped her to check out the blossoming bruise on her jaw.

"I'm _fine_, Deeks."

"You are obviously not fine," Deeks said, still panicking even though she seemed relatively unhurt. "You hit your head. You could have a concussion."

"I seem to be doing just fine so far," she said. She crossed her arms. "That was _my_ wave, too," she sulked.

Deeks pulled back and smiled a little. Of course she was more worried about that than nearly being knocked unconscious. "Yeah, it was. And you rocked it."

"Until I fell off."

"Nobody's perfect on the first try. Except me, of course."

She gave him a look, and he tried not to smile. She noticed his attempts and rolled her eyes. She walked up the beach towards their towels and he followed, letting his grin loose now that her back was turned.

Kensi stopped next to where they had dropped their towels earlier and grabbed hers, shaking it roughly so that it was free of sand. She wiped her face dry and then bent down to remove the strap from her foot. She straightened up quickly, her eyes wide in shock. "Your other board!" She said.

Deeks hadn't even realized they didn't bring it in to shore with them; he'd been too worried about Kensi. He followed her gaze out to the water, where the board was being rescued by a young boy, probably ten or eleven. Deeks undid his own strap and jogged down to the water line, where the kid was pulling the board in. "Hey, buddy, thanks for saving my board."

"No problem," the kid said, offering the board to Deeks, who took it. "Is your girlfriend okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be okay, thanks," he said, waving at the kid as he ran back up the beach. It wasn't until he got within in a few feet of Kensi that he realized he hadn't bothered to correct the kid and tell him Kensi wasn't his girlfriend.

Relieved, Kensi said, "I'm sorry."

Deeks waved her off. "It's no big deal. Are you _sure _you're okay?"

Kensi switched from relief to exasperation so quickly it nearly gave Deeks whiplash. "Yes, Deeks. How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?"

Deeks dropped the training board to the ground and picked up his towel instead. He ran it over his face and hair before saying, "You know, a lot of people say they're fine when they're really not fine."

Kensi's face hardened. "What I'm not _fine_ with, is that you keep asking me whether I'm okay. I'm not bleeding out over here, Deeks, so stop trying to baby me."

Surprised at the sudden turn in the conversation, Deeks held up his hands. "Whoa, calm down, okay? I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I can take care of myself," she said forcefully.

"I know you can," Deeks replied. "But don't get mad at me for making sure you don't have to go to the ER."

Kensi's lips pressed together and she looked out over the water.

"I think we should call it a day," Deeks said quietly. "Is it okay if I take you home? I'll feel better knowing you got home safely if I do it myself."

Kensi waved her hand noncommittally, but Deeks took that as a yes, and he picked up the boards and his towel and followed Kensi to the parking lot.

"We can take your car," Kensi said shortly. "Monica will bring me down to pick mine up the morning."

Deeks shrugged, scared to say anything that might set her off again. He stowed his boards in his trunk and after making sure her seatbelt was on, drove away from the beach.

* * *

><p>His car smelled like him, only much, much stronger. It was like the seawater was embedded in the floorboards and the seats. And the smell of the dashboard as it had warmed in the sunshine mixed with the salty tang was pleasant, if a bit overwhelming.<p>

Kensi was furious with herself more than she was with him. She felt kind of bad that she had snapped at him, but he was also trying to hover and take care of her, and she really didn't need that. It was obviously in his nature to want to make sure she was okay, but it was against everything she knew to let someone else take control, even in as small a way as tending to her after taking a spill off of a surfboard.

That was what she angry about. She'd been doing so well, and she had _finally _made it into a standing position when the wave bucked underneath her, toppling her from the board and surprising her so much that she hadn't even had time to think about what was happening. One second, she was firmly planted on the board and the next, she was rolling underneath the wave, unaware of which way was up and swallowing what felt like her weight in seawater.

She knew she shouldn't feel like a failure—it was her first time, after all—but Kensi was a perfectionist and even the smallest loss of control felt like the biggest disgrace. She knew Deeks couldn't possibly know that about her, so after she'd gotten control over her emotions again, she said, "I'm sorry for yelling at you back there. It wasn't fair to you."

Deek turned down the radio and said, "You don't have to apologize. I know how much it sucks to fall off the board. And besides, I was being way too clingy."

Kensi sighed and turned in her seat to look at him. "It wasn't you. It was me. I'm angry at myself."

Deeks chuckled slightly. "Are you going to give me the 'It's not you, it's me' speech? Because I don't think we're at that point in our relationship just yet."

"Ha ha," Kensi laughed tonelessly. "You think you're mister funny guy, don't you?"

Deeks shrugged, looking ahead at the road. "What's wrong with cracking a few jokes? The ladies _love_ it."

Kensi didn't want to tell him how right he was, and she bit her lip to keep her smile to herself.

He caught her, though, and said, "See? You think I'm hilarious, but you won't admit it. I know how you work, Blye."

"You don't know anything about me," Kensi said playfully. At least, it was supposed to come out that way, but it sounded wrong: too quiet and sincere.

Deeks gave her a look that told her that he wasn't falling for it and that he did, in fact, know how she worked. It made Kensi uncomfortable that he could make her feel like that. "I know you like tequila. I know you're a forensics major. I know you're a badass." The last part made Kensi smile. Deeks took a deep breath and said, "I know you were upset the other night and you were trying to hide it. I know you're dealing with some stuff. I know you're not ready to talk about it, but I'd still like to get to know you, whether you tell me or not. If you'll let me."

Kensi swallowed. She opened her mouth, expecting something to come out, but nothing did. She took a deep breath and looked out the window. They were driving north along the coast, so his side of the car was facing the ocean. Kensi saw only homes and businesses and land, boxing her in and making her feel claustrophobic. She had a headache, and it only partly had to do with the bruise that was currently forming along her jaw. She clenched her jaw, and immediately regretted it as pain shot through it. She released it and looked over at Deeks, who was patiently waiting for a response. _Suck it up, Blye. Just try. He deserves at least that. _

Kensi took another deep breath and said, "Okay. But," she said, holding up a hand as Deeks' face split into a grin, "I want to know as much about you as you'll let me, too. That means one for one, okay?"

Deeks nodded seriously. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't prepared to reciprocate," he said. "That's the first thing I can tell you about me: I always give back when it's due." He looked over at Kensi with a smile. "Your turn."

"We're taking turns? What is this, 20 Questions?" Kensi asked, stalling for time.

Deeks shrugged. "Sure, if that makes it easier. Your turn," he nudged gently.

They were nearing Kensi and Monica's apartment and Kensi was grasping for something to say that wasn't too revealing. She wasn't all that comfortable telling him about where her mind had been on Tuesday; she wasn't comfortable thinking about the news of her job offer with herself. Anything regarding Jack was a definite no.

Deeks pulled onto Bayshore Drive and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. He was teasing, Kensi knew, but it was still pressure. She could lie, of course, but that didn't feel right. Not when he so desperately wanted to know her. Not when she could almost certainly admit that she liked him enough not to want to do that to him.

Deeks parked on the street in front of the apartment building and turned to Kensi. She looked over his shoulder at the ocean, the blue waves shining yellow and white in the sun. The same waves that had given her a sore jaw and a stinging ego. Then she looked at the man sitting in front of her. He hadn't quite saved her from the water—like she'd said: she didn't need saving—but he'd been there when she'd resurfaced, and he'd made every effort to make sure she was okay.

"It's been a long time since I let anyone close to me who wasn't already close before," Kensi said haltingly, looking Deeks in the eye. It was as much an admission as it was a warning, and she could tell that he registered that.

"What was 'before'?" Deeks asked quietly.

Kensi unbuckled her seatbelt and grasped the door handle. "Don't push your luck, Deeks," she said.

She opened the door and got out of his car, picking up her bag from the backseat. She looked back at him and saw the concern and confusion in his eyes at the way she'd thrown up her walls so abruptly. She looked out over the ocean again and took a deep, calming breath.

"We can finish this game over beer and a pizza," she offered nonchalantly. Truthfully, she didn't want this day to end. She wasn't done letting the warmth of his eyes fill her with a buzzing feeling, or letting his smile do funny things to her heart. She wasn't ready for him to go.

His lips quirked up into the smile and he turned the key in the ignition, quieting the car's engine. "A beer sounds great after the day we've had," he said. "And I have to make sure you're not going to pass out on me," he added.

Kensi gave him a small smile in return and shut the car door. "Pizza and beer it is." Deeks got out as well and followed her up the stairs.

* * *

><p>They reached number 6 and Kensi unlocked the door, pushing it open with some force. "You should get that fixed," Deeks remarked, following her into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.<p>

Kensi threw her bag on the couch and said, "We would, but that takes money. Besides, management's really picky about that kind of thing. The landlord would rather do it himself, except he doesn't do anything anyway, so you know, we're stuck with it."

Deeks shrugged and stood in the living room, looking around. It was different than the night of the party. Obviously, there were less people and it was better lit. But…there was something even more than that. Kensi and Monica had really made this place home, and it suddenly seemed like a haven. It felt safe, somehow. And open; Deeks could see the ocean out the living room window.

"I really need to take a shower. Think you can keep yourself out of trouble for a few minutes?" She smirked.

"You mean stay out of your stuff? I promise I won't read your diary," Deeks shot back, a grin lighting his face.

Kensi rolled her eyes and turned away without comment. As she walked towards her room, she said, "There's stuff to drink in the fridge. Help yourself. And you can watch TV or whatever. Monica should be home in a few minutes." Deeks heard a door close and the run of the water.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the case on top of the fridge. As he did, he noticed the pictures that were stuck to the fridge with a variety of magnets. They were mostly of Kensi and Monica, and a few of their friends. There was one of Monica wearing a graduation cap and robes in the bright red of Cleveland High. She held a piece of paper up and was flanked on either side by a tall man, and a short woman who looked exactly like Monica. There were a few younger kids in the picture, too, hugging each other in a way that filled Deeks with longing. They were all grinning proudly, squinting a little in the sun. Their happiness made Deeks smile. Graduation in Reseda was a big deal, especially for families who had a tough time. Deeks thought that Monica's family was lucky to have a good example for their younger kids. It was probably a lot of pressure on Monica, but she handled it very well.

Looking up, Deeks saw a picture of Kensi. She was also wearing graduation robes, this time in blue, and looking proudly at the camera. On one side of her was an older couple, their arms around each other's backs and smiling at the camera. There was a hand around the back of Kensi's waist from the other side, but the picture was folded over, cutting out whoever it was. Momentarily forgetting their conversation in the car due to his overwhelming curiosity, Deeks slid away the magnet. He was about to flip the picture over when his phone started to ring with a call.

Slightly disappointed and also relieved that he wouldn't be violating Kensi's trust, he answered his phone. "Hey, Paul."

"Hey, Marty. Are you near a printer?"

"Yeah, why?"

Paul sighed, "I just realized that Healy wants that annotation of the Brockman case file tonight. I'm at the shack. Do you think you could print it and bring it down to the beach for me?"

"Am I expected to work while you finish it?" Deeks asked, only slightly joking.

"No! No, Hank's here. So you'll do it? Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course I'll do it. How soon do you need it?"

"As soon as possible."

Deeks looked at his watch, "Uh, I'm at Kensi and Monica's right now. I can be there in about half an hour."

"Great," Paul answered, clearly relieved. "And, uh…tell them hi for me."

"No problem. See you soon, man."

"Yeah, see you soon. Thanks." And they hung up.

Deeks looked around and realized that he didn't actually know if Monica and Kensi had a printer. He hesistated, not sure what to do, before deciding that he had to ask Kensi.

He went to the door of her room and called, "Hey, Kensi?" The water was still running and it was a moment before she answered.

"Yes, Deeks?" She called back, adopting her tone of teasing impatience.

"Do you have a printer I could use? And…a laptop?"

She didn't answer for a moment. No wonder; people were protective over their computers. "What do you need it for?"

"I need to print off this case file for Paul. He forgot it was due tonight."

He could almost imagine her sighing and mulling it over. Thankfully, she didn't take too long and said, "…Okay. Can it wait a few minutes?"

"Uh…," Deeks stalled. He did _not_ think this through. "No? I promised Paul I'd get it to him as soon as possible."

"Fine. My computer's on my bed. The printer is on the table at the end of the hall."

Deeks went into her room cautiously. There were clothes on the floor near the closet, and her textbooks were heaped on the ground beside her bed. Papers were spread all over the desk, which explained why her computer was on the bed. "Jeez, it's like an episode of 'Hoarders' in here," he called out.

"Deeks," she said warningly. Deeks chuckled to himself.

He moved aside a blanket and a sweatshirt and found her laptop underneath. He opened it up and was thankful there was no password protection. Resisting temptation to look further, he opened up the internet and logged into his email to bring up the case file. He went into the hall and plugged the computer in to the printer, pushed print, and was startled when the printer beeped loudly, alerting him that there was no paper. Deeks turned around on his heel and went back to the bedroom. The water had stopped running and he could hear drawers opening and closing in the bathroom.

"Hey, you got any paper for the printer?" He called.

"Top shelf of my closet, right in the middle."

Deeks balked at the mention of the closet, but it looked like the entire contents were spilled out on the ground anyway, so what else could he see?

He saw the package of paper right where she said it was, but as he was turning to go, Deeks saw the boxes. There were about six of them, packed neatly and taped shut, stacked in the far corner of the closet. He saw two words: "Dad" and "Jack" were written on various boxes. Not trying to think too hard about it—it was her business after all—Deeks turned and hurried down the hallway to the printer, where he refilled the paper. The printer happily churned out the case file and Deeks stapled it with the stapler that was sitting on the windowsill behind it.

Kensi came out of her room, now wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair hung down her back, starting to curl as it dried. He face was flushed from the hot water and the sun, and she looked clean and happy to be that way. "All good?"

"Yeah," Deeks held up the paper. "Are you?" He noticed the bruise on her jaw was becoming much more pronounced.

She noticed that he noticed and put her hand to her face. "I'm fine," she said defensively, then noticed his raised eyebrow. "I'm good," she amended, more softly. "I'm good."

Deeks smiled slightly, "Good." Kensi's lips lifted a little.

After a moment, Deeks cleared his throat and said, "I'm, uh, gonna take this down to Paul and we might have to take a rain check on the pizza. Are you all right for the night? You don't have a concussion or anything?"

"As if I'm going to give you an excuse to watch me sleep," Kensi snorted, and then winced, putting her hand to her jaw again.

Deeks raised his eyebrows, trying not to laugh. "I really am sorry."

"It's not your fault that the board hit me in the head, Deeks," she said.

"It won't happen next time," he promised.

"Next time?"

Deeks backpedaled, "I mean, if you want to keep doing lessons."

Kensi smiled wryly. "Next time, I'll have it down."

"Ok," Deeks said, grinning at her. He looked at his watch, "Ok I really need to go now."

Kensi walked him to the door and just as he had reached the top of the stairs, she said quickly, "Hey, call me, okay?"

Deeks turned, not even bothering to keep the grin off of his face. "I will." She grinned back before wincing at the pain in her jaw. She gave him a small wave and closed the door, still smiling. Deeks practically skipped down the stairs, feeling so light that he thought he could probably just fly off of one of the balcony railings and float down to his car. If he could have seen Kensi leaning against the other side of the door, smiling giddily to herself, he just might have.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I'm back! And I'm so sorry for not posting all summer. It's been quite a busy one for me. Basically, I was hired on as a camp counselor for an 8 week sleep-away camp way back in March, and I knew then that I was probably not going to be able to post at all over the summer. When June arrived, and I was getting ready to leave, I posted chapter 11 without an explanation to you guys, with the hopes that I'd be able to finish and post chapter 12 before I left or in the first few weeks of training, when I was still allowed to have technology. I was sorely mistaken. So, it turned out with you guys waiting for a new chapter for nearly 4 months without explanation and me getting the best tan of my life while still worrying that you all thought I'd abandoned the story. I am so very very sorry.

This chapter has been half finished since the beginning of summer, and I intended for it to be at least twice the length it is now, but I felt so guilty about leaving you waiting for so long that I'm just going to post it now, and the second half in the coming weeks. I'd just like to end this lengthy apology by thanking everyone for being so incredibly patient throughout this long long summer. You guys are so dedicated to this and you are the main source of motivation for me to keep writing. Thank you so so much! Without further ado, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>Deeks did indeed call Kensi, and the next Tuesday, around 2 in the afternoon, they were on their way to Camp Pendleton for the promised shooting lesson.<p>

"I have a question," Deeks said around a mouthful of Swedish Fish. They were stuck in the unavoidable city traffic, baking in Kensi's car, even though the AC was on full blast. The sun was directly overhead and beating down through the windshield, turning the candy—Swedish Fish for Deeks and M&M's for Kensi—soft and sticky. That didn't stop them from eating it though.

Kensi nodded, cueing Deeks to continue. He swallowed and said, "What made you want to be a federal agent?"

Kensi had her sunglasses on, effectively hiding most of her already inscrutable expression. After a moment of silence, she said, "Helping people, mostly. Especially military families, like mine."

Deeks nodded, mulling this over. "You're from a military family?"

"Yeah, my dad was in the Marines."

"That explains the shirt."

Kensi looked over at him, her eyebrows knitting together above her sunglasses. "What shirt?"

"The one you wore at the beach the day after the party."

"How do you remember that?"

Deeks shrugged. "I remember interesting things, I guess."

"What was interesting about it?"

"Well, there were giant letters across your chest, for one thing." Kensi looked over at him, and Deeks was sure she was giving him a half-exasperated, half-disgusted look from behind her sunglasses. He grinned at her cheekily, causing her to roll her eyes.

Kensi sat back against her seat, her hands firmly planted on the steering wheel in the chaotic stop-and-go traffic of LA. She held out her hand and Deeks filled it with M&M's, as he'd dutifully been doing the past half hour they'd been together in the car. After she was content with chocolate candy in her mouth, she said, "Be serious."

Deeks was struck with the irony of the statement coupled with her mouthful of candy, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he said, "I thought it was interesting that you were wearing it, I guess. Not a lot of Marines live this far north of Pendleton."

Kensi swallowed her candy and said, "It was my dad's."

"I figured. So I'm guessing you moved around a lot?"

Kensi nodded quietly. Deeks watched her face change, and he wished he could see her eyes. He was sure they wore a faraway look, as if she had slipped back into memories, but he couldn't be sure. "We moved around every few years, but somehow, we always made it back here, so this is home," she said simply. "What about you?"

Surprised, Deeks turned to her. "What about me?"

"Have you always lived in LA?"

"Oh, yeah. I've never been too far from Reseda."

"You're from Reseda? Monica is too."

"Yeah, she and I made it, somehow."

As the car rolled to yet another stop, Kensi pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and looked at Deeks sternly. "There is no 'somehow'. You made it on hard work and you _deserve_ this. Don't ever put your success down to luck or chance," she said fiercely.

Deeks reeled back, shocked at her outburst. He knew guarded Kensi, and snarky Kensi, and he was just to starting to discover playful Kensi, but this was a whole new facet of what was already a maze of a woman.

Kensi turned back to the road. "Sorry," she said. "Monica says the same thing and it drives me nuts. You worked hard to get here, so you should own it."

"I get that," Deeks said. "And I'm sorry for being self-deprecating. It's just that, in Reseda, we aren't brought up to think that hard work gets you anywhere. Most people there either work their asses off for nothing, or they laze off and only just get by. Hard work rarely leads to success, so to be here, it must mean that something happened by chance. It's a fluke, as far as most people are concerned. Even the people at school seem to think that." Deeks was not trying to get her to pity him. He really wasn't, but it started to come out that way. He'd never been able to tell anyone this, not even Paul, who he knew just wouldn't understand. Despite her apparently decent upbringing, he knew that somehow, Kensi understood this. The fact that she and Monica—who had grown up so similarly to Deeks—were best friends reinforced this.

"Don't ever let them tell you you're not worth it. My dad drilled that into me when I was a kid, and I've made Monica live by it since I met her. When they tell you that you can't do something, you say, 'Watch me.'" Kensi suddenly looked embarrassed, as if she'd said too much, and she dropped her sunglasses over her face. "Sorry. Monica says I need to get a soapbox."

Deeks laughed and said, "Maybe, but don't apologize for it. And next time Healy condescends me, I'll tell him to fuck off."

Kensi burst out in surprised laughter. "I'd pay to see that."

"Thanks for the advice," Deeks said after a moment. He dug his hand into the bag of Swedish Fish and popped a few into his mouth.

Kensi smiled slightly, but didn't say anything.

Deeks watched her, hands at 10 and 2 on the wheel, focused intently on the blue minivan in front of her. She held a hand out, and he poured more M&M's into her hand. After she'd chewed and swallowed, she looked over at Deeks.

"What?" Her brow furrowed over the sunglasses.

"You drive like an old lady."

As if to prove his point, Kensi inched forward behind the car in front of her, pressing the gas and braking alternately until she was a few feet behind the minivan. She shuddered to a stop and turned to him. "I do not!"

Deeks swept his hand out to the generous space between Kensi's car and the minivan. Kensi looked to the road and then back at Deeks. "I'm _cautious_."

"You're like a grandma with a suspended license."

"I resent that statement," Kensi said, lifting a hand off the wheel and raising a finger to punctuate her point. She immediately gripped the wheel again as she inched forward.

"No, seriously. Who taught you to drive?"

"My dad," Kensi retorted defensively.

"The dad who was a _Marine_?"

"Yes," Kensi answered shortly.

Deeks sat back, blowing out a breath and lifting an eyebrow.

"What?!"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying, either your dad is a bad driver or you definitely do not take after him."

Kensi's breath caught and her hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles turning white. Deeks took this in, instantly realizing that playful teasing had turned into something serious, and that he'd hit a shallow nerve.

"Hey, I—I'm sorry if I said something wrong. Are you okay?"

Kensi stayed silent for a moment, ramping up the tension in the car. Finally, she said tightly, "How about we don't talk for the rest of the ride?"

Deeks nodded, not saying anything. He was cringing internally, though, berating himself for ruining what was turning out to be a good run. She was opening up. She was laughing more. And now he'd royally screwed up. He didn't know how, but he had.

He was so busy in his own world of scolding himself that Deeks didn't see her hand until she'd been holding it out for a few moments. She thrust it a little more in his space and Deeks jumped, surprise and repressed childhood instincts making him reel back in his seat. After a few seconds, he grabbed the M&M's and poured a few into her hand. She popped them in her mouth, chewed and swallowed, and returned her hand to the wheel, braking yet again for the blue minivan.

* * *

><p>A tense, quiet hour and a half later, Kensi pulled up to the gates at Camp Pendleton. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Deeks looking around curiously, taking in everything. He hadn't spoken for the rest of the ride, and while she was grateful for the quiet to pull herself back together, she also knew that he was hurt. It was probably even worse that he didn't why he was hurt, because he didn't have any idea what he had said that had caused a deep pang in Kensi's chest. He'd been teasing, and Kensi realized that. But she wasn't near ready to let him into the ache that still filled her now; the ache that kept making her swallow down the lump in her throat.<p>

Kensi pulled up to the guard station and rolled down her window. "Hey, Ed. How are you today?"

Ed, the guard who was always stationed at this gate on Tuesdays, smiled at her. "I'm doing great today, thanks. You coming to use the range?"

Kensi nodded and pulled her shooting license and gun registration from between her seat and the center console. "Here's my paperwork. I've also got a visitor with me today."

Ed peered past Kensi to Deeks, who smiled and waved. "Hi, Ed."

Ed looked back at Kensi, a mischievous question lighting up his eyes. Kensi just continued talking, as if she hadn't seen this. "He'll need a visitor's pass, and probably a rental."

"Not going to let him use yours?" Ed asked as he flipped through Kensi's papers, not really reading them. Protocol dictated that he look, but Kensi's frequency of attendance meant that he knew the words and dates by heart.

"Nope," Kensi answered. "I'm pretty protective of it. You know that."

"Oh, don't I," Ed told her, flashing his smile again. He handed back her papers and looked around to Deeks. "Good luck, young man. She's a livewire."

Kensi bit back a remark as Ed buzzed them through, the gated sliding open to reveal dirt road and a number of squat, short buildings. She prayed that Deeks wouldn't say anything about Ed's comment, and thankfully, he didn't. He was too absorbed in looking around at the base, his eyes flashing across the buildings and the many uniformed Marines going about their business. To Kensi, this was so familiar that she could drive the route to the range in her sleep, but to Deeks, this was a completely different world. She suddenly realized that even though she had held back from telling Deeks about her childhood of bases and many moves, this was, in a way, a window into that world.

The main administrative building came into view and Kensi parked in front of it amidst the other civilians who were using the range today. She shut off the car and turned to Deeks, who was still looking out the window. "We have to go sign you in. Think you can refrain from flirting with the receptionist?"

A surprised smile bloomed on Deeks' face. Mischief followed soon after. "Are you sure she won't refrain from flirting with _me_? The ladies love me, you know."

"Yeah, I've heard," Kensi said, mostly to herself. Deeks' grin made her roll her eyes. Her stomach flipped on its own accord.

They got out of the car and Kensi led the way into the main office. Bridget smiled up at her from her desk. "Hello, Kensi. What can I do for you today?"

"I'm here to use the range," Kensi replied. She stepped aside so Bridget could see Deeks more fully. "And we need a visitor's pass."

Bridget's face lit up at the sight of Deeks, who held out his hand with a charming smile. "Hi, Bridget. Marty Deeks. I'm a friend of a Kensi's."

Bridget held her hand out and they shook. "It's nice to meet you, Marty. It's so great to meet one of Kensi's _friends_," she said, winking conspiratorially, as if she didn't believe the word one bit. "You need a visitor's pass?"

"That's right," Deeks answered, leaning against the high counter that formed Bridget's desk. He tilted his head and smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. Bridget blushed a little and then bent down to get his paperwork. Deeks looked over at Kensi and winked, nudging her a little with his elbow, clearly egging her on. She nudged back a little harder, causing him to wince as their elbows collided. Kensi watched with triumph as he struggled to compose himself when Bridget reappeared, placing the paperwork and a pen on the desk.

Deeks filled his paper out, chatting idly with Bridget as Kensi watched on, tapping her toes impatiently. He threw out little compliments to the receptionist every now and again and Kensi watched the woman become even more flustered with each one. Deeks finally signed his name at the bottom and traded Bridget the paper and pen for a visitor's pass. He and Kensi turned to leave, both thanking Bridget. As Deeks held the door open for Kensi, Bridget called out, "Hold on to him, honey. He's a keeper!"

Kensi blushed a little, and she knew Deeks saw because he grinned and the spring in his step became much more pronounced. "Hear that? I'm a keeper."

"Are you physically incapable of flirting with any woman present?" Kensi asked, deliberately ignoring his question.

"It's like I told you: The ladies can't resist!"

Kensi rolled her eyes and walked around the back of her truck to pull open the hatch.

"You didn't respond, which means it's true," Deeks said matter-of-factly.

"Not necessarily," Kensi shot back, pulling her gun case from underneath the blanket in her trunk. "It means you're too full of yourself for me to give you a response."

Deeks crossed his arms. "You need a better excuse."

"What I need is for you to quit nagging me," Kensi told him. "Come on, I want to get this over with so that we can beat the rush hour traffic." She turned and started to walk up the road.

From behind her, Kensi could hear Deeks following and saying, "That _wasn't_ rush hour?" She laughed to herself, shaking her head.

He came up beside her then, swinging his arms, brushing his against hers. She kept her arm straight, holding the case between them. He looked down at the black box and said, "You keep this in your car?"

Kensi nodded and held it up a little in front of her. "Never know when I might need it."

"Tell me, are you that paranoid?"

"No. I'm cautious. I told you earlier."

"Cautious does not mean keeping a _gun_ in your car, even in LA."

"Cautious means that I grew up in a military family, and I know that bad things happen sometimes. If I have the power to protect myself and other people, then I'm going to use it, even if it is a gun."

Deeks nodded quietly. Then he said, "So are you teaching me because I asked or because you want to pass on that power?"

Surprised, Kensi looked over at him, letting their arms brush. "A little bit of both, I guess. I hadn't thought about it that way."

"I promise I'll take it more seriously, then," Deeks said, holding his hand over his heart. His smile was playful, but his words held a weight that carried a much more serious tone.

Kensi nodded, appreciating that he understood the importance of this. His quick switch to somberness increased the guilt that Kensi still felt from the car. "I'm sorry," she said after a few moments. "About what happened in the car. You didn't do anything wrong."

He looked over at her, the sunlight catching his eyes. Even though he was squinting, Kensi could see the brilliant blue looking back at her. "Obviously I did."

She knew he was trying to hedge his way into an explanation. It was as if they were standing on a tightrope, teetering back and forth, only barely keeping their footing. Whether she told him about her dad or not, Kensi knew that Deeks wouldn't let them fall. He was invested, she realized, much more than she'd given him credit for. Whereas Kensi could easily jump back to a safety point, Deeks was far out in the middle, waiting for her to meet him.

But she couldn't. Not yet.

"I know what you're trying to do," she replied, trudging forward up the road. The range was slowly coming into view, and the pops of firearms could be heard in the distance.

He sighed, almost imperceptibly, as he followed her. "Looks like my manipulating skills still need work. Think it's too late for me to change my major?"

Kensi laughed quietly, thankful that he'd returned to jokes, but also guilty that he was getting so little for as much as he was putting in. "You're in it for the long haul, I think," she called over her shoulder.

"I don't know," he retorted, catching up to her. "Being a cop doesn't sound too bad."

Kensi looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "You? A cop?"

"Am I threatening Badass Blye's territory? Who knows, maybe I'll end up a better shot than you," he said as he held open the door to the rental shack.

"Don't push your luck," Kensi said, suppressing a smile that in turn suppressed the knot in her throat.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Deeks replied, his warm voice banishing all traces of the knot and leaving a flush in its wake.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: It appears I have made a habit of promising the chapters will be up and then taking forever to finish them. I suppose it's my way of being hopeful that life won't get in the way too much so I can actually have some time to sit down and write. In spite of that, I really do appreciate all of the kind reviews and patience from everyone. You guys rock! And a big welcome to those of you who have followed this story since I've posted last! That being said, here's the second half of Deeks' shooting lesson and the subsequent road trip back. Just a little heads up: this chapter is pretty dialogue-heavy, and I know that's not everyone's cup of tea, so brace yourselves. Maybe grab some Swedish Fish or m&m's to hold you over :)

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>"Okay, dominant hand here, and your left hand goes…here. No, no you're teacupping. Here, like this. Oh, my God, <em>Deeks<em>," Kensi sighed in exasperation as Deeks slipped his hands back to their incorrect positioning on the gun. She'd moved his hands back into position a moment ago, and now he was doing it just so she would touch him again. She glared at him, all business. He chuckled and moved his hands back to where she'd guided them. His right hand gripped the holster, one finger held straight along the barrel. The left he wrapped around the other side, both thumbs next to each other, exactly the way she had shown him.

Kensi had realized early on in their lesson that for all of his teasing and jokes, Deeks was a remarkably quick learner, and he was genuinely curious about learning how to shoot. He'd picked up the proper way to load the gun in four tries, and now—despite his fooling around—his grip was like that of a seasoned pro, even though he'd only observed Kensi and the other patrons at the firing range.

Kensi held up her own gun to demonstrate and said, "To point, you want to line up the gun with your elbow, and keep your arms straight. Aim a little higher than the target, and when you're ready, switch off the safety, keep your eye on the target, and shoot." She put her own gun down and turned to Deeks. "Got all that?"

"Got it."

"Okay. Think you're ready to try a shot?"

Deeks took a deep breath and steadied himself, lining up to the target, which was really a hay bale with a sign attached to it. Kensi watched the intensity in his expression, and his hands tightening around the barrel. As goofy as he'd been a few minutes ago, he really was a natural. His stance had been nearly perfect before Kensi had shown him what to do and the way he held the gun made Kensi wonder whether he was telling the truth when he said he'd never learned how to shoot. Of course, he'd put it all down to watching a lot of cop dramas on TV, but there was only so much you could learn by watching, wasn't there?

Deeks breathed in and then breathed out, very slowly. As he exhaled, he switched off the safety. At the end of the breath, he pulled the trigger. The gun bucked in his hand, though he kept it fairly straight. The bullet burst through the paper target in the third ring.

A huge smile spread across Kensi's face; she couldn't help herself. "That was great!" she said. Deeks put the safety back on the gun and set it down on the bench. He turned to her, a strange expression on his face. He seemed proud of himself, but there was also something there that made Kensi's stomach twist. It was almost like the way Jack used to look when he was having an episode: haunted and far away. Untouchable. But Deeks was right here, his face breaking into a grin, even if his eyes were having trouble catching up.

"Okay, that was really cool," he said. He shook his hands out and jumped up and down. "Can I do it again?"

Kensi nodded, stifling a laugh. She leaned around him and picked up the gun, trying to ignore how he didn't move out of the way and her shoulder brushed up against his side. She felt his breath on her hair as he exhaled, and a small shiver ran up her spine.

She leaned away from him, trying to keep her cool. She weighed his gun in her hand and then held it up, aiming for the target. "This gun's kickback is hard, so when you feel it, try to relax and let it travel through your body instead of fighting it. It'll help your aim."

She handed the gun back to Deeks, whose face was contorted in an attempt not to laugh. "What?"

"You're aware of what you just said, right?" Deeks asked, mischief lighting up his face.

Kensi thought it over and then rolled her eyes. "You're such a child," she said in disgust.

"Yeah, my kickback is _really_ hard," Deeks teased. "I gotta aim it just right."

Kensi smacked his arm. "Turn around and shoot, doofus."

"Whatever you say," he replied, laughing openly now. But he turned around and held up the gun. He repeated the steps he'd done before: breathing in and out, turning off the safety, and then pulling the trigger.

This time, the bullet pierced the target on the line between the second and center rings. Deeks whooped, hastily throwing the safety on before turning to Kensi.

"I don't know, maybe I _am _a better shot than you," he said, grinning widely.

Kensi raised an eyebrow incredulously, but her smile gave her away. "What did I say about pushing your luck?"

"Let's see you do it, then. Prove your worth, Blye."

Not one to back down from a challenge, and definitely not one to give up a chance to show off, Kensi stepped up beside him, nudging Deeks out of the way. She held up her weapon and took her stance before firing three shots in succession.

Three holes appeared in the target, all in the center ring. Kensi set her weapon down, turning on the safety. She turned to Deeks, a smug smile on her face.

"Damn," he breathed in awe. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"If you behave, we won't have a problem," Kensi teased back.

"What do you mean by 'behave'?" Deeks asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Not twisting my words, for one," Kensi replied. "Are you incapable of not turning any conversation into an innuendo?"

"You make it so easy, though!" Deeks said. "And I have to keep it in all day being 'Lawyer Marty' that any chance I get to break from that, I take."

Kensi raised her eyebrows. "Remind me again why you're studying law?"

He looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said, "it seems like you hate being straight-laced all day. All you do is complain about it."

"All I complain about is Healy, and that's because he's a prick."

Kensi looked at him hard, her eyes narrowing in thought. She opened her mouth to say something, but Deeks beat her to it, afraid of what she would say and even more afraid of how he would react. "I'm doing it for the same reason you want to be a fed: to help people. I've met enough public defenders to know that they're only in it for the easy money. If I can help at least one desperate mom, or some kid who made a bad choice, then I know at least one person won't have to face what I did."

Kensi's eyes widened, but her face didn't change. Her eyes didn't turn pitying, or questioning, like most people's did when they heard about Deeks' troubled past. She didn't ask questions or offer a hug or a condolence. She just said, "That's a very good reason. I'm sorry I questioned you."

"Don't worry about it," Deeks said quietly, watching as she picked up his gun and held it out to him.

"You want to try a few more?" She asked, seemingly brushing off the tense interaction.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I would," he answered, holding his hand out for the gun. When she placed it in his palm, Deeks closed his fingers around the handle and her hand. He caught her eye and said, "I'm sorry about what I said in the car. I don't really know what I did to upset you, but I'm sorry."

Kensi's face tensed and she pressed her lips together before pulling her hand away. "I'd rather not talk about that here."

"Are you going to talk about it at all? It's not that fun being kept in the dark." Deeks tried to catch her eye again, but she looked away, across the range.

"I know. And I will. Just not…_here_. It'd be too much."

Her face was twisted into something unknown to Deeks, yet it was so familiar that his gut wrenched. He felt bad for making her upset. "I don't expect anything of you…,"

"But you deserve it," Kensi interrupted. "Like you said, it's not fun being kept in the dark."

They shared a silent moment, neither sure what to say, but both wanting to say _something_.

Deeks' phone broke the silence. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Paul's name flashing across the screen. He stared at it, unsure of what to do.

"You gonna get that?" Kensi asked, bringing them back to familiar ground with her attitude.

Deeks shook his head, silencing his phone. "Unknown number. If it's important, they'll leave a message."

Kensi shrugged and turned back to the range. "A few more rounds? Then we have to get back. I have lab reports due tomorrow _and _a midterm in my senior seminar."

"Sounds good," Deeks said. He picked up his gun and took his stance. "Best of three? I think I can beat you this time."

Kensi rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Keep dreaming, Deeks." She moved to the stall next to him and held up her gun, squaring off.

* * *

><p>Kensi got into the car, beaming in triumph. She always liked a bit of healthy competition. And she definitely liked winning.<p>

Deeks got into the passenger seat and looked over at her, feigning a pout. "It's not fair."

"What's not fair? That you're a sore loser?" Kensi teased.

"No," he huffed. "That you come down here all the time and have probably been shooting since you were, like, three." He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed dramatically.

"You shot a gun for the first time today and you expect to out shoot me? Your logic is a little flawed," Kensi laughed, putting the car in gear. She looked at Deeks out of the corner of her eye and saw that his pout was slipping into a grin.

He straightened up in his seat and looked out the window as the base slipped by. They were close to the gates when he said, "How long did you live here? Or, I guess I should ask how many times."

"I was born here and we lived in family housing until I was three. We came back again when I was nine, left a year later, and then my dad was given a long term position when I was thirteen. We were here for two years after that."

"Wow," Deeks said, sitting back in his seat. "So this really is home, then."

"Pretty much," Kensi said. They waved at Ed as they passed through the gates. He grinned and waved back.

"You said you moved around a lot. Where did you live in between?"

"Um…We were in Texas for a few months. North Carolina until I was five. I started school in Washington D.C., and then we moved to Jordan for a year and a half. I spent a summer in Portugal with my mom before we moved back here. Then it was Israel, Germany, back to Texas, and back to Pendleton."

"Where'd you go after that?"

Kensi took a deep breath. She accelerated onto the freeway, heading north to Los Angeles. "I lived in Cathedral City until I graduated high school."

"There's not a base there," Deeks said, confusion clear in his voice.

"No, there's not."

"So what happened?"

Kensi knew he wasn't going to let her go too long without following up on her promise. She knew she was going to have to tell him at some point. And it wasn't that she didn't want to tell him; she was more afraid of letting him see her vulnerability. It had been nearly 6 years and she still wasn't able to talk about it. Kensi had accepted her father's death long ago, but baring the darkest part of her life to someone she'd just met was a challenge. Then again, she hadn't just met him. And Deeks had proved himself to be different in that he didn't pity her or run away when she put up her walls. In fact, he seemed more determined to break them down.

"Kensi?" Deeks prompted, breaking her from her thoughts.

Kensi swallowed and looked over at Deeks briefly before turning her eyes back to the road. His face was open and curious and it gave her the extra motivation to continue. "My dad…he died in a car accident when I was 15."

She didn't look over at him, not wanting to see whatever was on his face and wanting to hide her own. She swallowed again, hard.

The sound Deeks made was almost like that of someone who'd been punched the stomach; the air whooshed out of him. "I-I'm sorry, Kensi," he said.

"Thanks," Kensi said quietly.

There were a few minutes' silence in the car and Kensi wondered whether he would say anything at all. She certainly wasn't going to add anything to the conversation, afraid she might break the dam and the flood wouldn't stop coming.

"So you and your mom moved to Cathedral City?"

And there it was, the beginning of the end for Kensi; the one person who had set off the hell that had been Kensi's life for nine years. If Deeks knew how much had happened to Kensi it that short period of time; if he knew how many people had left her, he'd certainly see how dysfunctional Kensi was.

"My mom's not in the picture," Kensi said as evenly as possible.

She could feel Deeks look over at her, his gaze burning a hole in the side of her face, just begging her to look at him. Kensi kept her eyes locked on the road ahead of them.

"I guess that makes two of us," Deeks said, so quietly that Kensi had to strain to hear him. She looked over at him quickly in surprise, gauging his level expression, the tightness around his mouth and eyes the only tell that something wasn't right.

She hadn't thought that she could share something like this with anyone, let alone Deeks. Yes, he was from Reseda, and the majority of homes in that neighborhood were broken, but he seemed too content to have experienced pain like that in his life. And Kensi could tell that his mother leaving was a sore spot for Deeks, instead of one of those situations in which the child was better off. Then again, what child was ever better off without its mother?

Kensi cleared her throat and broke the heavy silence. "I lived with family friends in Cathedral City. A retired Marine and his wife."

"The picture on the fridge at your place, of your graduation day. That's them?"

Kensi was stunned momentarily. He really did remember everything. "Yes, that's them."

"I thought they were your grandparents," Deeks said, a slight laugh in his voice.

"They kind of are," Kensi responded, cracking a small smile. "Even down to the whirlwind retirement travels. They're in Thailand right now."

"Wow, you Marines really get around." Deeks sounded impressed. Kensi looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. He looked confused for a moment before saying, "You know what I mean."

Kensi laughed, the built up tension of the past few minutes released in a single exhale that left her feeling lighter, freer.

* * *

><p>Over the next hour, they drove north on the highway, the ocean and the setting sun to their left, and mountains to their right. Unlike earlier in the afternoon, the temperature was comfortable and conversation was flowing freely.<p>

"Still doing reports on the Molina trial?" Deeks asked.

"Of course. The trial's next week," Kensi answered. "Are you going?" she asked.

Deeks shook his head. "I don't think I'm invited."

"Why not? I thought all of the law students were supposed to be there."

Deeks ran a hand through his hair and exhaled heavily. "I kind of blew it with Healy last week in class. He'd have me kicked out of the program if he had anything on me."

Kensi's brow knit together as she looked up at him. "What did you do?"

"I told him about the discrepancies in the evidence."

"And?"

"And he wiped my grades on the assignment because I didn't follow it to the letter. I had more information than him and he felt threatened. So I walked out."

"That bastard," Kensi said vehemently. "He needs to be reported."

"Like we'd ever get that to stick," Deeks laughed mirthlessly. "It's better to just suffer through it than fight back."

Kensi shook her head furiously, keeping her eyes trained on the road. "He's an awful person. You'd think the administration or other faculty would see that."

"The thing is, they do. He's got the record of case wins to beat, though, which is why they keep him around. It looks good."

Kensi huffed angrily. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one to botch the evidence. Just to protect his name," she said spitefully.

Deeks' brow furrowed and he looked over at her. "What?" she asked. "You don't really think…?"

Deeks started to nod slowly. "Actually…" Then he shook his head vigorously, as if to shake the thoughts out of his brain. "No. No, I can't get tangled up in this. He'd eat me alive for even trying to dig into it."

"What makes you think he's involved?" Kensi asked.

"Just the way he acted in class last week. When I brought up the evidence, he shut me down completely. I thought it was because he was threatened by me knowing something he didn't, but any other professor would have run with the information. He was irrational to the point of stupidity. And as awful a person as he is, Healy's not stupid. Maybe it's just a hunch."

"Follow your instincts. That's what my dad always told me."

"And what if those instincts lose me my career?"

Kensi shrugged. "The police force could always use a shaggy surfer dude. Goes great with undercover."

"What makes you say that?" He asked.

She'd meant it as a joke, but judging by the look Deeks gave her, she wasn't too far from his plans. "I just assumed it was your Plan B by the way you were talking earlier. And you're a damn good shot, so I wouldn't say it's out of the question."

"You think?" Deeks asked, looking semi-hopeful and more than a little stunned at her compliments.

Kensi backtracked quickly. "I mean, it's that, or you could live at Nico's for the rest of your life."

Deeks raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He was trying to hide a smile, but Kensi could see it out of the corner of her eye, and she couldn't keep in her own smile.

"Speaking of police," Deeks said. "Did you ever turn in that application?"

Kensi debated whether to tell him about her meeting with Hetty. She was proud of herself, and it should have been an instant yes, but there were things and people that she would have to leave behind. Home wouldn't be home anymore, and she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Monica and being without the one person who had helped her survive through the past year. It was unthinkable. And yet, Kensi wanted so badly to accept the offer, especially with the promise that she'd be back in LA in a few years.

The problem with revealing herself to people was that there was an instant connection. And if those people were like Deeks, and if they were interested in her for more than a moment in the line at the supermarket or when she was paired up with someone for a lab, then Kensi was prone to run. It was much safer to connect herself to people who she knew were more likely to stick around. They had to prove themselves to her. Kensi knew that this was what Deeks was trying to do, and it had obviously worked, seeing as he had made her comfortable enough to tell him about her dad. She hadn't thought for a second that he would betray that trust, which worried her. How could someone so completely unlike anyone she'd ever met have such an effect on her?

"Kind of," Kensi answered after a moment of deliberating. She saw his look out of the corner of her eye, and she allowed herself a triumphant smile before continuing. "I was offered the job before I could turn it in."

"Wow, Kensi! That's amazing! Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Kensi replied. They were nearing the city now and she slowed down as they hit the stragglers of rush hour traffic.

"How did that happen?"

Kensi told him about her meeting with Hetty, finishing with, "I have to give her a response in two weeks."

"Why wait until the last minute? Aren't you going to turn it in?"

Kensi bit her lip, unsure how to answer. She'd asked herself the same question a dozen times over the past week, and while the answer should have been an obvious and resounding "yes", she was still struggling with the implications of making something so big so concrete.

Deeks must have picked up on her hesitation, because after a moment, he asked, "Have you told Monica?" It was truly a testament to how well he could read her, which in and of itself scared Kensi. He'd gotten right to the heart of the matter, or one of the hearts.

Kensi shook her head. "I don't know _how_ to tell her. She'll go ballistic."

"She's your best friend, Kensi. There's no way she won't be happy for you."

"She hates cops."

"What she hates is violence. And I don't blame her. She doesn't want you to get hurt."

Kensi glanced over at Deeks. He was watching the road in front of them with a strange expression on his face. It was similar to the one he wore after he'd taken his first shot. He was lost in his thoughts, somewhere far away even though he was sitting not two feet away from her. Of everything today, learning Deeks had his own demons was the biggest surprise and the greatest relief to Kensi. He wasn't like the other entitled, selfish students who lived on top of a hill that overlooked the ocean and the rest of Los Angeles like it was their own personal throne. He was like her, and Monica, and the small group of people that Kensi trusted. These were the people that understood pain and loss, and they knew how hard it was to trust. Deeks understood her like they did, even if he didn't know the extent of her past. And watching him battle his own demons now, Kensi realized that he needed someone who understood him just as much as Kensi had needed Monica and Orly and Quinn in this past year. The difference was, Kensi had pushed away their love, and Deeks welcomed it, even if he had no one to give it to.

"You should turn in that application," Deeks finally said, turning to look at her with conviction in his eyes. "Monica loves you. She wants to protect you, but she'll be happy for you at the same time. And I know you're probably terrified of leaving her behind, but she'll always be here."

Kensi felt a prick behind her eyes, and she swallowed a sudden knot in her throat. Because he'd gotten to other heart of the matter; the leaving part. The abandonment.

She squinted at the road ahead, willing her emotions back deep into her body, away from the light of the late-September sun. She felt Deeks move in the seat next to her, turning and raising his arm, almost as if he wanted to put a hand on her shoulder. He lowered it, however, and said quietly, "You're too much to lose, Kensi."

Kensi choked out a laugh, hoping it would cover up the sob that had built in her throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Deeks said, his voice warm and comforting, "that…you're special, Kensi. The people who care about you would never leave unless they were forced to. Even with the distance, Monica isn't going to forget about you, and she's not going to feel abandoned because you're following your dream."

It was like he knew about everything. The year spent on the streets, her mom and Jack leaving, how lost Kensi had felt after he dad died. How she'd gone so far as to believe that it just wasn't worth it anymore. But of course, he didn't know that. He just knew her.

Pressing her lips together, Kensi exhaled. "That's pretty wise. Did Yoda come to you in a dream last night, or something?" She smiled, so he would know she was joking.

Deeks smiled a sideways grin, his cheeks flushing a little. "I just know a lot about life is all," he replied cockily.

Kensi shook her head in amazement at his confidence. She wondered how much of life he really had experienced, though. Judging by what she'd learned today, Kensi guessed that he'd seen a lot.

* * *

><p>Thankfully, traffic through the city was light and they made it back to Malibu while the sun was still hovering above the Pacific. Kensi pulled into a parking space at the beach, where they'd met earlier in the afternoon.<p>

Kensi and Deeks looked out over the water in comfortable silence, both their faces lit with the intense orange of the setting sun. Deeks broke his gaze first, and looked over at Kensi. It had been a long afternoon, and they'd both learned a lot about each other. She'd opened up, more than he thought she ever would, and while Deeks was happy that he'd finally broken down one of the many walls she'd surrounded herself with, he was worried about her. She would shut him down immediately if she knew, so he didn't say anything. When she looked over at him and met his gaze, though, he knew she saw it.

"I'm good," she told him. Deeks smiled. She wasn't _fine_, she was _good. _And that was enough for him.

"Think we can do this again," Deeks asked. "You won't be the better shot for long."

Kensi laughed openly. "You do realize who you're talking to, right?"

The sound of her laughter broke whatever worry was leftover and Deeks laughed too. "You said I was good!"

"For a beginner!" She shot back. "And with some practice, you'll _maybe _be good enough to pass the Marines marksmanship test."

Deeks perked up. "That's a thing?"

"I'll show you the targets next time we go," Kensi said. She said it offhandedly, but Deeks knew it was a promise.

"Deal," he said, grinning at her. She smiled back, allowing him the rare privilege of one of her dazzling smiles that lit up her whole face. The smile that knocked him off his feet every time.

After he'd caught his breath, Deeks looked at his watch and saw, with regret, that it was later than he'd anticipated. The buzz of his phone in his pocket further reminded him of other commitments and he sighed.

"I've gotta go," he said. Her face fell a little, and Deeks realized with sudden clarity that he would do anything to put that smile back on her face. He wasn't quite ready to admit to himself what that meant.

"If you're free this weekend, we can do another surfing lesson," he suggested hopefully.

Kensi nodded thoughtfully, the look on her face not promising. "I'll have to check my schedule. Monica hinted that she might have something planned. Probably shopping," she said. The tone of her voice indicated that she was less than thrilled.

Deeks chuckled and shook his head at Monica's antics. "Tell her hi for me, will you?"

"Of course," Kensi said. "Maybe she'd like a trip to the beach on Saturday. Who knows?" She shrugged, a hint of that smile gracing her face.

"Well, try to talk her into it," Deeks said. "And tell her about the job while you're at it."

"I will," Kensi promised. "And thanks, for today."

Deeks shook his head. "No, thank _you_. It was lot of fun."

They grinned at each other and Deeks' phone buzzed. Sighing again, he put his hand on the handle and pushed, opening the door. The ocean breeze filled the car, blowing Kensi's hair into her eyes. She pushed it out of her face, meeting his gaze as he shut the door.

Deeks walked to his car as she pulled out of her spot, honking the horn as she drove past. He waved, regretting that they'd had to end their…date?…earlier than either had wanted. He pictured her face as he'd shut the door, brown eyes lit from within and looking at him with a warmth and hope he'd yet to see from her. A small smile had lifted her face and her hands were against her face, pushing curls out of her eyes. Deeks held onto this image, a mental snapshot to give him the patience to pull out his phone and find out just what Paul wanted that was so important it had cut their date short.


	14. Chapter 14

This chapter is essentially filler while I flex my writing muscles after being away for so long, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I don't want to make you wait any longer to read this, so my explanation for taking so long to post and a semi-lengthy apology note are at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>A few days later, Kensi and Monica were preparing for movie night. Monica was in the kitchen retrieving "sustenance" (their guilt-less name for ice cream) and Kensi was just about to close her laptop when it chimed, indicating that she had a new email.<p>

_Ms. Blye,_

_Thank you for submitting your application to the Criminal Investigators Training Program (CITP) and the Special Agent Basic Training Program (SABTP) in Washington, D.C. Ms. Lange has informed me that you are to be fast-tracked through the admissions process and immediately enrolled for the upcoming summer session. In order to finish this process, we require an up-to-date medical and mental health record, as well as your university transcripts up to the most recent semester. Please send these materials to my office as soon as possible._

_You should be aware that it is required that you maintain full disclosure about your academic performance and physical and mental health throughout the coming months. Ms. Lange assures me that she has the greatest trust in you and your abilities, and that you will be an excellent addition to the Los Angeles Office of Special Projects. However, I'm sure you are also aware that NCIS has the right to perform background checks and investigations into your records at any time. _

_An agent will be in touch with you in the next few weeks to set up an interview and basic skills test. Feel free to contact my office if you have any questions or concerns._

_Congratulations and best regards,_

_Amy Rickers_

_Department of the Navy, Human Resources Department: NCIS Division_

Kensi stared at her laptop screen for a solid minute, processing the information displayed in her inbox. It wasn't like she hadn't known that it was coming, but the finality of an official acceptance made it feel all the more real. Her face split into a grin as it started to sink in that this was all coming true; she was going to be an NCIS agent.

"Hey, you know the number one rule is no laptops or phones," Monica said as she joined Kensi on the couch, a tub of ice cream in hand. She noticed Kensi's expression and laughed, "What's got you all smiley?"

Kensi turned to Monica and attempted to school her features into something a little more stoic. She wasn't sure how Monica was going to take the information, but Kensi had promised herself—and Deeks, who would no doubt hold her to her word—that she would tell Monica about the offer, and now was as good a time as any.

"Monica," Kensi started, "I have something to tell you…"

It was a wonder the neighbors didn't come knocking or call the police, because the excited shriek that echoed from apartment 6 was startling enough without the string of "ohmygod's" that followed behind it. Suffice to say, breaking the news went much better than Kensi had expected.

* * *

><p>The Molina trial was all anyone could talk about in Kensi's classes the following week. Molina had pleaded "not guilty" on all accounts and rather than focusing on their impending midterms, Kensi's classmates were trying to figure out Healy's angle.<p>

Even Monica was getting fired up about the case. "I mean, it's obvious that he killed the cop," she said one night while making dinner. "His fingerprints are on the gun, for goodness sake!"

"There's a good chance Healy'll use the compromised evidence report as an argument. They're also bringing in his brother to testify tomorrow," Kensi said, peering at the chicken, rice, and vegetables that were filling the apartment with mouth-watering aromas.

Monica swatted her away and continued to stir to contents of the pot. She scoffed and said, "As if Ramón Molina would testify against his brother."

"That's why they're trying to convince some of the girls to come to the stand, but they're all afraid to," Kensi replied, hopping up to sit on the counter. She pulled out her phone to double check the information. "Even if they did give their statements, Healy would eat them alive."

Deeks had been texting her updates from the courtroom all day. Apparently he was in deep trouble for skipping class to go on their shooting lesson, and Healy's punishment was that he sit in the front row and take notes for the defense. It was the kind of punishment Kensi would expect a grade school teacher to give a kid who couldn't pay attention, but Healy always had an angle, and this one involved not only humiliating Deeks, but forcing him to take a side that opposed his personal beliefs. Kensi had been doing her best to boost his mood all day, but each new text came through more depleted than the last.

They'd been texting since the morning after she'd dropped him off at the beach, even if they hadn't seen each other. He'd told her thank you again, and she'd cracked a joke about how it sounded like he was thanking her for a good night, and it had spiraled from there. Monica hadn't said anything, but every time Kensi's phone buzzed, she smiled knowingly at her friend.

She smirked now, her attention turned to the pot on the stove in front of her. "How many times have you texted him today?"

Kensi quickly stowed her phone back in her pocket, feeling irrationally guilty and a little embarrassed. "Not much," she replied flippantly. "He's just been updating me on the trial."

Monica raised an eyebrow incredulously. "I really hope that's code for sexting when the jury's on break."

Kensi looked at her friend seriously. "It's exactly what I said. Not everything is about sex, Monica."

"Whoa, Kens. I know that, okay? I just figured that with you guys getting closer…you know?"

"We've only had two dates, if you even want to call them that-"

"Definitely dates," Monica interjected.

"-and I'm just not ready for it to get physical yet. We haven't even kissed yet."

"You haven't kissed yet? What are you doing? What is _he _doing? The second date is when he's supposed to kiss you!"

"When have you ever known me to follow the 'rules'? We're taking it slow. He gets it." At that, Kensi smiled a little to herself.

"My God, you really like this guy," Monica said in wonder.

"More than I want to admit," Kensi replied curtly before jumping down from the counter. "And more than I want to discuss. When's dinner?"

In true Monica form, she rolled with Kensi's dismissal of the subject and said, "5 minutes. You wanna get the plates?"

Kensi nodded and pulled dishes from the cupboard. She was selecting silverware when Monica asked, "So, are you going to the beach on Saturday?"

It was Homecoming weekend and sort of a tradition that while the rest of the student body was crammed into Greek Row, their small group of friends tramped down to the beach, blankets and cold beers in hand. Last year, Kensi and Jack had gone, but it was right after Jack had come home from his second deployment, and when Orly and the guys had started to set off firecrackers, Jack started to get tense, and he and Kensi had made a quick exit.

Kensi mentally kicked herself for thinking of him. Of course, she thought about him every day—there were three years of mostly happy memories—but the clarity of those memories was starting to fade and blur around the edges. Kensi kept telling herself it was a good thing, and she believed it. Regardless, every now and then, the realization would hit her that it wasn't "Jack and Kensi" anymore, but just Kensi. For as much as it seemed that her friends were trying to fill the space left, Kensi still couldn't forget it.

"Kensi?" Monica prompted, breaking her from her reverie.

Kensi shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

"We're not doing this again, Kens," Monica warned. "I'm not letting you back out of living your life because everything reminds you of him."

Kensi swallowed and shook her head, not looking at Monica. "I'm not-,"

"Yes you are!" Monica interrupted. "Why are you so afraid of facing it, Kensi? He's in the past, and you have a future to look forward to. And a damn good one at that. You have people who love you. And they're right here. _We_ are right here. And it feels like you're ignoring us for memories."

Kensi pressed her lips together and looked down at the silverware in her hand. The edge of a fork was biting into her palm and she used the sensation as an anchor as memories and guilt threatened to pull her out to an unrelenting sea. It was no use arguing, because Monica was right. "I just don't know what to do with myself sometimes," she said truthfully, hating how small her voice sounded.

"That's okay," Monica told her softly. "That's why you have me. And everyone else. We don't expect you to be who you were before he left. And we definitely don't want you to feel like you have to pretend. We just want you, scars and all. I wish you would understand that."

Kensi stayed quiet, mulling over her words. After a few moments, she said, so softly she didn't think Monica would hear, "I miss him." She was over tears—had been for a long time—but her voice cracked all the same and she sucked in a trembling breath before looking up at her friend. "Just when I start to think it's getting better, when I start to actually let myself forget, I'm reminded of him, and everything comes flooding back."

"Kens," Monica started, but she didn't finish. She seemed at a loss for words, so uncharacteristically Monica.

"I'll go to the party on Saturday," Kensi said, more strongly this time. She could only allow herself to be vulnerable for so long before feeling like she was going to lose herself. "It'll be good to see everyone."

Monica's smile was warm, but it didn't reach to cover the sadness and pity in her eyes. "Good," she said, turning back to the food, which had been left unattended for a few minutes, and starting to sizzle uncontrollably. "Set the table before I burn this," she instructed. As Kensi walked by, Monica threw her hip out to bump Kensi's playfully, and Kensi reciprocated, laughing almost too loudly, just relieved that the moment was over.

* * *

><p>"Deeks, don't!" Kensi warned, her voice jumping an octave. She ducked out of the way, her feet slipping on the sand, but she wasn't fast enough to dodge the stream of cold water that Deeks shot at her with his water bottle.<p>

"Hey, Secret Agent Lady, what happened to having the reflexes of a cat, or whatever?" Deeks teased as Kensi gasped and sputtered, shaking the cold water from her skin.

They'd returned to the beach on Thursday for another day of surfing and letting off steam from a tough week of midterms for Kensi and trials for Deeks. The two surfboards that lay in the sand had seen a day of good waves and happy riders, as Kensi had gotten up a few times and ridden the waves all the way through. They were drying off and packing up to leave when Deeks had instigated this battle.

He turned towards the wide expanse of water and tilted his head back to swallow the rest of the water from the bottle, reveling in his triumph.

A sudden sting on the back of his legs made him choke on the water and he turned to see Kensi standing with a towel in her hand, smirking. "What were you saying about my reflexes?" she asked slyly. Deeks liked playful, uninhibited Kensi. He liked every version of Kensi, but this one, the one standing in front of him, was the Kensi that lay underneath all of the hard exteriors and troubling past. It was an essential piece of her, the kind of person she could be when she let it all go. And she was stunning.

"I'll show you reflexes," Deeks said. He chucked his water bottle to the ground next to his towel and ran toward her, reaching out to tackle her, but she was too quick. He stumbled forward, fingers grasping at air instead of her waist, his intended target.

"Come again?" She laughed. Deeks pivoted and she shot off like a racehorse, her long legs kicking up sand as she sprinted away. Deeks followed after, equally as fast, though he'd had a late start.

What had started as a chase quickly turned into a race with no finish line as Deeks caught up to Kensi. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and when she looked over at him, a competitive grin split her face and Deeks faltered for a minute before again speeding up. His lungs burned and his breathing came out in short, gasping laughs. He shook his head as she veered toward the water and ran in, diving headfirst when the water reached her thighs.

Deeks stood on the shore, the water just brushing his toes. He watched her resurface, a wide smile on her face. "You win!" he called out to her, gasping for air.

She beckoned to him, and Deeks waded in. He ducked under the water and swam out to where she was treading. He didn't dare touch her, even though he so badly wanted to. It was like the bikini she was wearing was taunting him. It was simple and black and not nearly as revealing as the dozens of other girls on the beach today, but it did things to him. Things that made Deeks happy he was mostly submerged in water.

"What were you saying about running track in high school?" Kensi asked when he broke the surface a few feet away from her. The water reflected the sunlight and it lit her face from below, highlighting gold flecks in her eyes. Deeks swallowed before answering.

"I'm a little out of practice. And it's not fair that I was racing a Marine."

"I'm not a Marine. And you're a sore loser."

"You might as well be!" Deeks countered. "At least I'm not gloating about winning."

"Don't worry, Deeks. The puppy dog eyes are kinda cute."

Deeks smiled cheekily and swam closer to her. "You think I'm cute?"

Her eyes went wide and she backed up a bit. "I didn't mean it like that," she said defensively.

"It's okay, Kensi. You can be totally honest with me. You think I'm adorable."

"In a brotherly way, maybe." Her cheeks were already flushed from the sun and their race, but Deeks saw the color deepen.

He floated closer to her, stopping when he was about a foot away, just close enough to invade her space, but far enough away that she still had room to breathe. "Don't worry," he said, keeping his voice low. "I think you're pretty adorable yourself."

Her flush deepened and her eyes connected with his. Deeks half expected sparks to go bouncing across the waves around them, her stare was so electric. He was so tempted to lean in, to close the distance between them, and just…

"There's this thing on Saturday," Kensi said, breaking their connection and looking back to the beach, to the horizon, to her hands fiddling in the water, anywhere but his face. "Down here on the beach. A few of us…we get together every year after the game. You can come, if you want."

She finally looked him in the eye again, a strange mixture of emotions flickering across her face in the reflections off the water. Deeks knew he'd gotten a little too close. He'd leaned in a little too far and she'd backed off, using the invitation as a buffer, though not an unwelcome one. She was offering him some balance on this shaky tightrope. So he took it. Obviously.

"Sure, that sounds like a good time," Deeks told her, keeping his face and tone casual even though he was pretty sure the lightness in his chest would keep him afloat without the help of his treading.

Kensi nodded. "Good," she said, a small smile lifting her lips. She let out a breath of relief, though Deeks wasn't sure whether it was because she'd avoided their moment or because she'd been meaning to ask and was happy to finally have done it.

"You ready to head back in?" He asked, and she nodded. They took their time swimming back to shore, letting the waves carry them most of the way.

* * *

><p>AN: You know how sometimes Life happens and you lose all motivation to do anything that isn't work, and even then, you're slogging through it because you have to and not because you want to? That's been me the past eight months. I have done nothing but schoolwork/applying for graduation/trying not pull my hair out when dealing with difficult professors and vengeful landladies, and I regret losing my passion, even though I had absolutely no control over it. I'm sure you can relate when I say that sometimes Life pressures you and it's just too much to handle all of that as well as having the energy to actually enjoy it, and I want to say sorry (again) for taking too long to post. Now that I've graduated university and I'm free to explore my creativity again (in between working a part-time while I look for a "big kid job"), I'm able to write a lot more. I really appreciate the messages I got here and on tumblr from those of you who missed reading about these characters, and I'm so incredibly grateful to those of you who stuck with this through the past few months. Thank you x 1,000. You're all rockstars!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: It's the day of the Homecoming game, and the bonfire at the beach. Talks about relationships, developments in relationships, and developments in the Molina case await you. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>Saturday was cloudless with an intense sun, and by noon, the beach was nearly empty thanks to the climbing temperature. The fact that it was Homecoming weekend and the game had just started didn't help matters. Nico's had absolutely no business besides Christine, who wasn't really considered business seeing as Paul was supplying her with free drinks.<p>

"No game for you guys, then?" She asked, sipping on her Coke, which was loaded with ice.

Both men shook their heads. "I've been to enough football games to put even the most dedicated of frat boys to shame," Deeks told her, eliciting a smile. He felt Paul look at him, but didn't acknowledge it, instead keeping his gaze on Christine. After a moment, Paul turned silently and went to the rental shop to work on some boards. Christine's eyes followed him, but Deeks didn't even turn.

It was a little petty to pointedly ignore him, if Deeks was being honest with himself. For weeks, Paul had been badgering Deeks with his insecurities about Christine, and even though it was obvious that she was just as interested in their relationship as Paul was (a fact that Deeks had pointed out multiple times), Paul was still just as afraid of being left out to dry as he usually was. Normally, Deeks was understanding of Paul's uncertainties, and he did his best to boost the man's confidence, but now, he was beginning to get a little fed up. It didn't help that whenever he mentioned Kensi, Paul's eyes darkened and his jaw set, as if he were still upset by the fact that Deeks was pursuing the girl Paul had originally wanted. It bothered Deeks that the other man was still insulted about "losing" Kensi when he had Christine, who was proving herself to be a pretty awesome girlfriend and didn't deserve to be a second choice.

"I'm sure those frat boys would welcome you with open arms tonight if you guys win," Christine said, breaking the tense moment. "Anything fun going on up there tonight?"

Deeks shook his head, laughing at the thought. "Again, I've done enough of that in my time here."

Christine slumped against the bar and put her head in her hand. "And I thought this was a school that knew how to have fun," she feigned a pout and shook her head.

"Kensi and Monica and that crowd are coming down here for a bonfire. I'm surprised no one invited you."

Christine sat up and shrugged. "Oh, they did. I just assumed you would be there because of Kensi, and what with you and Paul and whatever is going on between you two, I figured he might not want to go."

Deeks eyed Christine thoughtfully. She was perceptive, sure, but he hadn't realized that the tension between the two of them had been so obvious. He opened his mouth to say so, but she cut him off.

"It's no big deal, really. And to be honest, it's been so long that the group dynamic just doesn't feel the same anymore. We shouldn't have to pretend like we're eighteen again, when it's clear we've all gone our different ways."

"I'm sorry," Deeks told her sincerely.

Again, Christine waved her hand to dismiss his apology. "It happens. People change." She shrugged and looked him straight in the eye, "You're not a bad person for trying to find your happiness."

She wasn't just referring to herself, and Deeks desperately wanted to defend himself, but couldn't find the argument. He looked hard at her for a moment, and she raised her eyebrows, almost challenging him to contradict her. He scrubbed the back of his neck and looked behind him to the shop before turning back around to face Christine.

"I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm saying it's okay to feel the way you do. The both of you."

"If law doesn't work out, you should be a therapist," Deeks quipped, hoping to diffuse the tension. It worked, and she laughed.

"Just find your happiness, Marty. God knows I've found mine," she said, casting a warm look towards the back of the shop.

Deeks raised his eyebrows and grinned at Christine as if to say _Seriously?_

Christine nodded, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. If her admission didn't confirm her feelings, it was her bashfulness. Christine was nothing if not confident, and for Paul to make her act like this, well, Deeks hoped the other man wouldn't do anything in his self-doubt to screw this up.

"I mean, I know it's only been a few months, but there's just something about him, about _us_, that works, you know?" Christine rushed on, trying to explain herself. "And I'm not normally the giddy schoolgirl type, but he just…he's-,"

"He's Paul," Deeks said by way of explanation. "You don't have to explain it to me; he's my best friend. You guys are lucky to have found each other." He grinned at Christine to show he was sincere.

"Thanks," she said. "Now, if you guys could figure out this, whatever this is," she waved her hands to indicate the guys' non-argument, "We'll all be the happier for it."

"I'll work on it," Deeks promised. "But I can't guarantee Paul will meet me in the middle. He can be surprisingly stubborn when he wants to be."

"I'll keep that in mind. Here, I'll make you a deal: you try on your end, and I'll try to get him to come around. Deal?"

Deeks nodded and stuck his hand out, to which Christine gave a firm shake.

She smiled, and then leaned back. "Now, turn on the radio so we can see how the game is going!"

* * *

><p>They lost. In a truly spectacular way that Kensi was almost impressed by. She couldn't bring herself to be too torn up over it. It was college football after all, and their team had never been particularly good anyway. It was her last Homecoming game, though, and Kensi found herself feeling a kind of bittersweet nostalgia as she, Monica, Quinn, and Orly left the football stadium. Completely unaffected by the loss or the heat, Quinn was shrieking in laughter as Orly ran into the parking lot with her on his back. She had her arms spread wide as if she were flying and she kept leaning into the sharp turns Orly was making around the parked cars. Monica, who had volunteered as DD and was therefore much more sober than the both of them, kept calling out as Quinn leaned too far for comfort. Kensi, who was little tipsy herself, couldn't keep from laughing.<p>

"Monica?" She said, slinging an arm around her friend's shoulders.

"Kensi," Monica replied, putting her arm around Kensi's waist.

"This is our last Homecoming," Kensi remarked matter-of-factly.

Monica's brow furrowed as she realized the importance of this. "Yeah, it is," she said, her face falling a little. An instant later, she brightened up again and called out, "Hey, tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, get back here, we need a picture. We have to commemorate this moment!"

Orly stopped suddenly, Quinn bumping in to his back. "Did you just call me dumb?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I did. Get over here so we can document out last Homecoming game."

Orly hiked Quinn higher on his back and turned to weave back through the cars toward where Kensi and Monica stood.

"Make it quick," Quinn said. "I want to go home and sober up before the bonfire."

"A picture only takes, like, a second. Plus, I'm the one with the keys, remember? You listen to me," Monica told her, jingling the keys for effect.

Quinn rolled her eyes, but smiled at Kensi knowingly as she slid from Orly's back. She stumbled a bit when she landed, holding onto Orly's massive shoulders for support. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. Kensi watched them fondly, her slightly intoxicated mind wondering when they were going to take things a step further. They were obviously meant for each other.

"Kens?" Monica called out. When Kensi looked up, Monica was motioning her over to face the parking lot with the football stadium at her back. Orly and Quinn joined her, Orly throwing an arm over Kensi's shoulders. Monica asked a passerby to take their picture and after handing over her camera, she took up her place on Kensi's other side, squeezing her waist and smiling broadly. Kensi smiled at the camera, not faking it one bit, for once.

* * *

><p>The sun was just beginning to set when Kensi and Monica pulled into the parking lot at the beach, joining their friends who were already there. They tramped down the sand towards the water, loaded down with coolers and blankets. Just as with every year, they laid the blankets out in a line facing the water and the sunset, the coolers within easy reach behind them. They would build a bonfire after the sun set, but for now, they chatted amicably while the sun sunk slowly toward the horizon.<p>

The sky was streaked with deep orange and pink, and the very bottom curve of the sun was dipping below the horizon when Deeks arrived, a six pack in hand and his trademark grin on his face. After greetings were exchanged and another beer was uncapped, he sat down next to Kensi in the seat that Monica had vacated with a smug look on her face. Deeks bumped her shoulder with his. "Hey," he said "Fancy seeing you here."

Kensi bumped him back. "What a coincidence. It's not like I invited you or anything," she replied, earning a smile that made her cheeks warm. She took a drink of her beer as the sun sunk lower over the calm ocean and tried—and failed—to ignore how closely they were sitting to each other. It felt good, the warm sun and the feel of the sand beneath her bare feet and the way her cold beer slipped down her throat. And Deeks, next to her, that felt good, too.

* * *

><p>The very top of the sun was still visible over the waves when they pulled driftwood logs over to a pit that had been dug into the sand long ago. They piled wood into the basin and someone held a lighter to it, building a blaze to ward off the chill that had blown over the beach as the sky darkened. Deeks had fallen into easy conversation with the rest of the group, and he found that he was having a really good time. Unlike the party at the beginning of the semester, when he'd been preoccupied with Paul's crush on Kensi, he was allowing himself to get to know the people here, and their relationships and dynamics. It was a diverse group, sure, but they were all laid back and welcoming, especially after they'd had a few beers.<p>

He was engaged in a conversation about the ethics of journalism with Quinn, and she was ranting about tabloids when Deeks felt Kensi move from his other side. They'd been sitting closely since he'd shown up, sharing glances every now and then, bumping shoulders playfully, but they'd barely spoken. As Quinn continued her tirade, Kensi slid from the log they were sitting on to the ground, and leaned against his legs, still keeping her attention on Monica and another one of their friends (Deeks couldn't place her name). She looked up at him and smiled. "The log was getting uncomfortable," she said by way of explanation, shrugging. "This okay?"

Deeks responded by tugging on her ponytail and jostling her with his leg, and she ducked her head to hide her smile, and Deeks' chest filled with warmth.

"Marty?" Quinn said from his other side. "Are you listening?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry," Deeks stuttered, turning back to face her. Quinn was looking on with a smirk. "Sorry," Deeks apologized again.

"God, _finally_," Quinn said, and rolled her eyes. Then she continued on her rant as if nothing had happened, and Deeks listened with only half of his attention, the other half devoted to the comfortable weight of Kensi against his legs, and the way her hair tickled his calf where it fell down her back in a long ponytail.

* * *

><p>"Fireworks," Orly announced later, after they were all sufficiently relaxed around the fire. He stood up, gesturing for a few of the guys to follow him, and they headed down to the water.<p>

"I'm pretty sure explosives and a huge, drunk guy don't mix well," Deeks murmured in Kensi's ear.

"He's remarkably skilled with explosives," Kensi said conversationally. "You should have seen the show two years ago. It was like art."

"Marty! Help us out, man!" Orly called.

"The drunk guy with the explosives calls," Kensi laughed.

"This slightly less drunk guy has to go supervise," Deeks responded, getting up to head over and help. He turned to walk backwards, calling out, "You'll call the fire department when it all goes sideways?"

Kensi took her phone out and waved it around, "They're already on speed dial."

Deeks winked at her and turned around, jogging to catch up with the rest of the guys at the edge of the water.

"God, you two are infuriating," Monica whined.

"We're taking our time," Kensi told her defensively.

"Yeah, and it's driving us all nuts," Quinn said, flopping down beside them. "You two are so engrossed in each other that you haven't even noticed how much sexual tension you're giving off. I could cut it with a chainsaw," she said, chopping her hand through the air.

Monica pointed at her, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. You're like two cats in heat, except you don't even know just how hot you are for each other."

"Jesus," Kensi muttered. "Do you two hear yourselves? It's embarrassing." She refused to acknowledge that they were even a little bit right.

"Kens, I'm living vicariously through you. And if I were you, I'd have tapped that by now," Monica told her. "He's sweet and smart and funny and he _likes _you. I doubt he's even looked at another girl since he's met you. He's smitten."

"Plus," Quinn added. "He's unbelievably sexy."

"Huge plus," Monica said.

"You guys are crazy," Kensi groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation.

"We're right," Monica said. "And you know it."

Kensi just shook her head, knowing that arguing with them was pointless. Monica was opening her mouth again to say something when Orly's shout cut over her. He was beckoning them down to the water, and the girls complied, gathering their drinks and heading down to the water.

"What do you have planned for us this year, O?" Monica asked as they approached.

"Something you've never seen before," Orly told them, grinning.

"Short of blowing up the beach, I'm not sure what he could do that's so outrageous," Kensi muttered to Deeks as he strode up next to her.

He chuckled and said, "It's actually going to be pretty cool. I'm not entirely sure where he got all of this, but it'll be worth it. As long as we don't get arrested, that is."

"Alright, everyone, stand back," Orly instructed, and they did, backing up the beach a couple hundred yards.

Orly knelt to light the first few firecrackers, and then ran up the beach to join the group. As the first one started to sing, and blasted into the air, Deeks' hand closed around Kensi's. She jerked in surprise at the contact and at the loud burst of the firework above them. The second one shot into the air and Deeks leaned down to whisper in her ear, "This okay?"

She responded by twisting their hands around so their fingers were laced together, and squeezing once, a silent yes. He bumped his shoulder against hers and when Kensi turned to look at him, another firework went off with a burst of sound and light, making his face glow for a split second. It was enough time to see his smile, and the way his blue eyes reflected the momentary burst of stars as he looked at her. Another burst firecracker made her jump and Kensi laughed at herself for startling. And she continued to laugh, letting it come out of her freely for the first time in a while. Deeks joined in and everything else fell away; their respective pasts and the threat of the future, terrible professors and murder trials and visits from NCIS agents. It was just two people standing on a beach, holding hands, and laughing and cheering with their friends as fireworks lit the sky above them and the water below them.

* * *

><p>The fireworks ended with cheers and applause from the group. Orly had outdone himself, as promised.<p>

They were clearing up their empty bottles and blankets, and some of the guys were stamping out the fire when they heard a distant shout. Everyone's heads shot up, and they fell silent, quieter than they'd been all night.

"It came from up the beach, beyond the dunes," one of the guys said, pointing. All was dark and quiet.

"Should we go check it out?" one of the girls asked tentatively.

"Send Kensi to check it out. She's the cop," Monica said.

"I'm not a cop," Kensi said, but she stood up straighter, handing her blanket to Monica.

"Might as well be," Monica answered her with a smirk. "Orly, Marty, go with her."

The guys complied without question—there was no arguing with Monica—and they followed Kensi up the beach as their group continued to clean up. "What do you think it could be?" Deeks asked as they trudged around the dune.

"No idea," Kensi muttered. She felt her senses on high alert when she heard sharp, raised voices. She held out a hand to stop Orly and Deeks from bumping into her when she stopped just before they rounded the side of the dune.

The voices weren't loud enough to make out, but they were definitely both male. And there was something familiar about one of them. Kensi turned to tell this to the guys, but Deeks' face caught her eye. It was screwed up in distaste and he said, "That's Healy. I'm sure of it."

"The evil law professor?" Orly asked. Even an education major had heard the horrors of having Healy as a professor.

Deeks nodded with a tight set to his mouth. His normally easy-going demeanor had been replaced by a completely different person and the change was quick and strong as a sudden rip current. Kensi had to catch her breath against it, and it made her uncomfortable that Deeks had a darker side, and that Healy could bring this out of the usually sunny, charming man standing next to her.

"What would he be doing on the beach at this time of night?" Orly asked.

Kensi shrugged, and crept forward so she could see around the side of the dune. A beam of a light swept out as one of the men swung around a flashlight, and Kensi stepped back to avoid being seen, bumping into Deeks, who steadied her with his hands on her arms. She peeked out again when she was sure the darkness would keep her hidden.

"-didn't tell me there'd be an issue," the voice that was not Healy said. "It was all taken care of. You said-,"

"I said that you wouldn't be implicated," Healy said in his infuriatingly smooth voice. It was the kind of voice lawyers used, and it made Kensi grit her teeth. She could feel Deeks beside her, tensed tight as a spring.

"You lied!" the other guy yelled.

"Tell me, Adam, have you been implicated?" Healy asked.

The other man—Adam—was quiet for a moment. "No," he said hesitantly.

"Then I've kept up my end of the bargain," Healy said. "Now, will you keep up yours?"

"As long as I'm sure I won't be accused, the deal's still on," Adam answered tightly. "If I even hear anything about that evidence being investigated, it's off."

"Do you doubt my ability, Adam?" Healy asked, pointing his flashlight straight into Adam's face, making him squint to protect his eyes from the light. Kensi leaned forward—something about that face was familiar—and nearly fell over a piece of driftwood that she hadn't noticed. Just as Orly was pulling her back, Kensi had a flash of memory of a guy running into the road, clutching a backpack, and the burn of a seatbelt cutting into her collarbone.

She leaned forward again to hear, but the only things she heard were the waves, and the wind rustling through the beach grass on the dunes. When she looked around the corner, careful not to trip over the driftwood, the two men were gone, leaving no evidence that they had ever been there.

* * *

><p>AN: What's Healy up to? And how does the guy who ran in front of Monica's car fit into this? The next chapter is in the works, so keep an eye out for it!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Hi all! Firstly, I hope you all had a great summer (or a not-too-terrible winter if you're in the Southern Hemisphere). My reasons for not updating boil down to the fact that I've been working a ton over the past few months (I got promoted to manager!), as well as looking for careers in my field. Thank you to those of you who messaged/commented to check in and encourage me to continue this story. I really do appreciate that the majority of you have expressed concern for my well being, and acknowledged that I have a personal life that needs taking care of first. Thank you for being patient and gentle in your encouragement. As many of you probably know well, adulting is hard!

Secondly, and story-wise, here is the next chapter! I'll let the writing do the talking, and keep this brief, but I'm pretty excited for a small time jump from this chapter to the next. I'm also looking forward to introducing some new characters, as well as a few you might be a little familiar with. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

* * *

><p>Deeks really shouldn't have been on campus on Monday afternoon. One reason was that he didn't necessarily have to be; all of the senior law students had been excused from classes for the trial. They only met once a week on Thursday evening to discuss and debrief. Another reason was that he had to be at work in less than an hour and he was still dressed in his button-up and slacks from the courthouse. The third reason—and definitely the most important—was that he was in the forensics department pulling evidence reports, trying to find a connection between what he'd seen on the beach and the Molina trial. He knew that even looking into the possibility of Healy being dirty was enough to throw him into hot water, yet here he was, combing through pictures, fingerprints, and autopsy reports, desperate to find something. Neither Healy nor Adam had mentioned anything about Molina, but Deeks was sure their argument was somehow connected. He just had to prove it.<p>

"Thanks, Dr. Cramer. I really appreciate you letting me do this," Deeks said once again. He'd thanked the professor probably twenty times in the two hours he'd been in the archives office going over reports. He was trying to seem as innocent as possible, and the excessive gratitude was probably starting to wear, but he couldn't help himself.

"Oh, stop thanking me, Mr. Deeks," Dr. Cramer said, waving a hand dismissively. He was sitting at the front desk, hunched over his own testimony for the trial. "Though I don't know why you're so interested in this. We've put it down as a filing error and gone back over the evidence multiple times. Unless you have information to challenge that?" He looked at Deeks expectantly, and even though Deeks could lie his way out of anything, the steely gaze of the forensics specialist caught him off-guard and he sighed in resignation.

"I have a hunch," he started hesitantly. "But I'm not sure I should say anything until I have evidence."

"Good thinking, Mr. Deeks," Dr. Cramer said, slipping on his glasses and peering at his notes once again. "Though I'd be careful if I were you. Raymond Healy is a nasty piece of work at the stand, as I'm sure you know."

"Oh, I'm very aware of that," Deeks muttered, earning a chuckle from the professor. "I don't plan on going up against him on the stand."

"If you do, in fact, find something that satisfies this hunch, who will?"

Deeks looked at the professor in confusion. "You believe me?"

Dr. Cramer took off his glasses and set his piercing gaze on Deeks. He was an intelligent man, intimidatingly so, yet he had the heart that Healy didn't, which endeared the professor to his students. Deeks respected the man for his fairness and for letting his students choose their own paths, as long as they all arrived at the same result. Now, Cramer's look was the same look that he gave students in class who brought up unorthodox methods of doing things, and he said the same exact thing he always said to them, "If you believe it, who am I to judge? Do you believe that the evidence was tampered with, Mr. Deeks?"

Deeks nodded solemnly.

"So do I," Dr. Cramer announced, equally as serious.

Deeks was taken aback. "You—you think Healy rigged the case?" he stammered out, almost at a loss for words.

"I think," the professor said thoughtfully, "that someone compromised the evidence so that the original report would come across as a clean sweep, one for one for one. I also think Dr. Healy works too closely with Carlos Molina for his methods to be considered ethical."

"Are you the only one who thinks that," Deeks asked. The files in front of him were forgotten as he wheeled his chair around to face the other man.

"I will not speak for my colleagues," Cramer told Deeks, "but I don't think it's a secret that Raymond Healy is disliked by much of the faculty. Though I'm sure you know that disliking someone does not make for a supported case."

Deeks nodded in agreement, his mind working in overdrive to process this information and how he could use it to his advantage. "I don't expect you to help me, sir. I know it could jeopardize your job."

"Thank you, Mr. Deeks, for that consideration. In protection for my career, I will have to refrain from actively involving myself in your investigation, but as the records are available to any student who asks as long as a faculty member in present, I don't mind staying after hours so that you may work." The man smiled.

"Thank you, Dr. Cramer," Deeks said for the umpteenth time that afternoon, earning yet another dismissive wave from the professor.

They worked in silence for another half an hour, Deeks painstakingly going over every detail in every version of the evidence reports. The silence was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Dr. Cramer stood up to answer it. Deeks looked over briefly and then did a double take when he saw who it was.

"Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Cramer, but your TA said you'd be down here," Kensi was saying breathlessly. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked like she'd been running. She stilled momentarily when she saw Deeks over the professor's shoulder.

"Deeks?" She said in surprise, unconsciously running a hand through her hair.

"Miss Blye?" Dr. Cramer prompted, and Kensi snapped her gaze back to him.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. "I have those reports that you asked for, and I wanted to talk to you about them in person."

"Of course," Dr. Cramer said, and he turned around. "Mr. Deeks, if you could please pack up."

But Deeks was already putting the reports back into their respective folders and shouldering his bag. "I'll see myself out. Thank you again, Dr. Cramer. Can I come by sometime next week?"

"Of course, Mr. Deeks. Just email and let me know."

"Will do. Thanks again."

The professor turned to walk away, motioning Kensi to come with him. She followed, but turned to cast a curious look at Deeks. She looked him up and down, taking in his professional appearance. Deeks was delighted to see that she was undoubtedly happy to see him, judging by her smile.

In true form, Deeks cocked a grin at her, and motioned between the two of them and then pointed exaggeratedly to the ground, mouthing "Tonight?" lest the professor should hear.

Kensi looked over her shoulder to where the Dr. Cramer was gaining ahead of her and then turned back, grinning. She put her thumb and pinky to her ear and mouth, respectively, mouthing "Call me."

His grin grew and he nodded. She winked at him before turning and hastening after Dr. Cramer, who had turned the corner, throwing one last wave over her shoulder as she did, leaving Deeks happily stunned in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

><p>The beach was decently busy for a late Monday afternoon, and there was steady business at Nico's. Deeks was working by himself, and he barely had a minute to call Kensi and invite her down to the beach for a surfing lesson after his shift. She showed up forty minutes later, with Monica and two kids in tow.<p>

His shift didn't end for another half hour, so he watched from the shack as Kensi helped Monica gather a stack of towels and a huge beach bag from her trunk. Monica pointed at the shack and said something to the kids, who began sprinting down the sand towards Nico's.

They skidded to a stop in front of the counter. "Hi! Are you Marty?" the girl asked breathlessly. She looked to be about seven.

"That's me," Deeks said to her. "What's your name?"

"I'm Ella. And this is Tanner." She indicated her younger brother, who couldn't be more than four. "Monica said to come say hi."

"Then you've completed your mission. Good job, cadets," Deeks said, holding his hand out for high fives. The kids responded enthusiastically. "Do you guys want a snack?"

"Nachos!" yelled Tanner, jumping up and down. "Monica said we get nachos!"

"You only get nachos if you don't scare Marty with your yelling," Monica admonished the little boy gently. She and Kensi had reached the counter and dropped their stuff on the stools. "Hey, Marty. Are they being polite?"

Deeks nodded. "Top nacho-worthy behavior right here."

"Ok, get these kids some nachos, then," Monica announced, and the kids cheered. "Seriously, it's like I don't ever feed you or anything."

"You don't ever feed us _nachos_," Ella corrected Monica matter-of-factly.

While the kids chattered to Monica and each other, Deeks turned to put the cheese in the microwave and grab a bag of chips. He glanced at Kensi, who was standing back from Monica and the kids. She looked decidedly uncomfortable, but grinned when Deeks caught her eye.

After the kids had been served their nachos and Monica got a smoothie, they headed across the sand to find a place to sit. Kensi took a seat on one of the stools. "Hey," she greeted him cheerfully, leaning against the counter and putting her chin in her hands.

"Hey. You okay?" Deeks placed another smoothie in front of her and she unfolded her fingers to place her hands around it.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." She waved hand dismissively and brought the straw to her lips to take a drink.

Deeks searched her face in disbelief. "You didn't look fine just now. You looked like you would rather be stung by a giant manta ray than be here."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "It's not that big of a deal. It's just that kids and me, we don't mix very well."

Deeks widened his eyes and took a step back in mock horror. "Wait a second. Are you one of those people that _hates _kids?"

Kensi's eyes widened at his tone. "Hate is a strong word. I don't _hate _kids. I'm just not very good with them is all."

"Wow. This changes everything. Kensi Blye hates kids," Deeks said disapprovingly.

"I don't hate kids!" Kensi exclaimed, a slight panicked look coming across her features. "I just prefer to work with adults."

Deeks shook his head with a mock disappointed look on his face. After a moment, Kensi seemed to catch on to his playacting, because she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "And I suppose you're amazing with kids?"

"I am, actually. Kids love me," Deeks told her proudly.

"Of course you are. You're perfect," Kensi murmured, and when Deeks smirked at her, she blushed.

"You think I'm perfect?"

"I think that _you _think you're perfect," Kensi shot back. "I can recognize a narcissist when I see one."

"Ouch. Kensi's back for round two," Deeks said, feigning injury. "And this time, it's personal."

Kensi was taking a drink of her smoothie, but choked on it in her laughter. "That was one of the cheesiest things I've ever heard," she croaked out.

"But you liked it," Deeks stated, smirking.

Her laughter died out, but she was still grinning when she said, "Yeah, I did."

* * *

><p>True to his word, Marty Deeks was good with kids—fantastic, actually—and watching him interact with Ella and Tanner was kind of incredibly attractive. Kensi would never admit it out loud, though.<p>

Monica, on the other hand, made her feelings known. "If I didn't know how completely gone you are on him—and don't try to tell me otherwise—I would have snapped that man up by now," she said as they watched Deeks play in the water with the kids. Ella and Tanner had flocked to Deeks immediately, like he had some sort of kid magnet embedded in his infectious smile. Surfing took a backseat to entertaining the kids, and Kensi wasn't complaining.

She did roll her eyes at Monica's comment and kept quiet, a small smile playing at her lips. Monica bumped her shoulder with Kensi's, grinning when the other girl looked over at her. "I can't believe I'm here to witness Kensi Blye crushing on a hot surfer type. This is a historical milestone."

"It's not a huge deal," Kensi said, blushing.

"Stop blushing and giggling, or he might think you actually _like _him. What a shock that would be," Monica whispered in Kensi's ear, as if Deeks could hear.

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm right."

"Monica! Watch!" Ella called, and both girls looked up to see Deeks lift Ella up and toss her over the water. She landed with a splash a few feet away and came up giggling. "Again, Marty! Again!"

"Me too!" Tanner squealed.

"Marty, you know I have to return them to their parents in one piece, right?" Monica called out.

"They're perfectly safe with me," Deeks called back. "Right guys?"

"Yeah!" the kids yelled.

Monica shook her head as Deeks tossed Ella again. He kept hold of Tanner as the younger boy flew through the air, however, and only dunked him under the water for a second. Monica nodded in approval. "You got a good one, Kens. Don't waste the opportunity."

* * *

><p>Monica left an hour later to take Ella and Tanner home. They both hugged Deeks goodbye and Monica was only able to tear them away by promising they would see him again. Kensi stayed, with Deeks jokingly promising Monica that he would have Kensi home at a decent hour.<p>

The sun was beginning to set, and they headed for the boardwalk, which was nearly deserted. "I know it's a little last minute, but can I take you to dinner?" Deeks asked, gesturing to a burger place a few doors down.

Kensi surprised herself by taking his hand in hers and winding their fingers together. "Lead the way."

Deeks looked down at their joined hands with a boyish grin, and then back up at her. Kensi couldn't help but smile, then she nudged him forward towards the restaurant. He set off down the boardwalk, beaming and with a new spring in his step. Kensi was surprised he didn't start skipping, but his happiness was infectious and she found that _she _kind of felt like skipping.

They sat at the bar and ordered. Once they had their beers, they started talking and conversation flowed pretty easily. It was the first time they'd actually talked about themselves in person, and the little things that made them who they were. They'd texted, sure, but there was only so much you could communicate through text. Deeks lamented over Kensi's love for trashy reality TV, and Kensi got him talking about how much he liked to read biographies. By the time they got their food, Kensi was talking about living in Israel and Jordan.

"Hanukkah was amazing in Israel," Kensi gushed (she didn't know she could 'gush' about anything). "There're candles in every window, and the food was so good. The streets lit up at night, everyone sang. It felt like this huge family celebrating. It was so incredible. What?" she asked. Deeks was staring at her, an awed smile adorning his face.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head and looking down at his food. "That would be pretty cool to see. I've never lived more than a few miles from where I was born."

"There's something to be said for growing up in the same place," Kensi told him. "Same schools, same friends, familiarity, stability. It sounds nice."

"It's not always that nice. Not in Reseda. And definitely not with my family," Deeks muttered darkly.

Kensi was quiet for a moment, and Deeks was afraid he'd ruined the conversation, but when she looked up, she was smiling. It was clearly forced, but at least she wasn't getting up to leave. "So, can I ask what you were doing in Dr. Cramer's archives today?"

Deeks breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the change in subject. "I can't shake the feeling that Healy's mixed up in this more than just being the defense attorney."

"So you're trying to find other inconsistencies in the evidence," Kensi answered for him.

"Something that guy on the beach—Adam—said. About a deal? And that it would be 'off' if the evidence was investigated. I don't know," Deeks trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "It all makes me think that the inconsistencies you found in the evidence weren't just a clerical error. I know it's my word against his, but if there's some sort of justice for that girl and the cop…"

"You have to do something," Kensi finished for him, nodding in agreement. Then she smiled, and Deeks warmed at the sight. "If you need any help with your case, _Detective Deeks_, I'm here to help."

Deeks laughed at the name—somewhere in the back of his mind, he found that he kind of liked the sound of it—and quipped back, "I'll keep you posted on the case, then, _Agent Blye_."

* * *

><p>Kensi hated first dates; they were awkward and stiff and ridiculously cliché. It had been years since she'd been on a 'proper' first date, but this didn't feel like it had when she'd gone on her first few dates with Jack. Maybe it was the unorthodox way she'd come to know Deeks, or maybe it was because they'd already gotten to know each other so well prior to this. The nerves weren't there, the awkwardness gone, and in their place, Kensi felt like they'd known each other for years, not just a few weeks.<p>

He drove her home, like a 'proper' date. He even walked her up to her door, through which they could hear Monica singing along to some Latin pop song. "I'm sorry Monica and the kids crashed our surfing lesson," Kensi apologized, leaning against the doorjamb.

Deeks mirrored her pose and shook his head. "I don't mind; those kids are awesome. We can surf anytime. Besides, I liked getting to take you out on, like, a real date."

"Yeah, that was nice," Kensi laughed. "Thanks for tonight. I had a really good time."

"I did, too," Deeks replied quietly. He looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Kensi felt a small bit of terror start to rise up the back of her throat. She knew how most 'proper' dates ended, knew what he was going to say. She wanted to keep tonight as untainted as possible. Kissing him would be awkward and cliche, and turning him down would be just as awkward. Either way she spun it, this wasn't going to end on the pristine note she'd hoped.

Deeks swallowed and raised his eyes to hers, and Kensi prepared herself. What came out of his mouth, however, surprised her. "I uh, I know this is the part where we're supposed to kiss, and I was going to ask you if I could kiss you, but this doesn't feel right, does it?"

Kensi exhaled in relief and shook her head with a smile. "No, it doesn't. Is it weird to say that I think it's too cliché?"

Deeks echoed her sigh of relief and chuckled. "Not at all. This," he gestured between the two of them, "is anything but cliché."

Kensi nodded, and then stood up straight. Taking on a business-like tone, she suggested, "How about this? We promise to see each other this week to investigate your corrupt professor, I'll take you to shoot again sometime soon, and we can try and fail to talk about our dark pasts." She tried to stay serious, but a hint of a smile threatened to ruin her act.

"That sounds more like us. Clichés be damned," Deeks answered, his eyes sparkling.

Kensi stuck out a hand. "Shake on it."

"Deal," Deeks agreed, putting his hand in hers.

They shook, but when Deeks moved to pull away, Kensi gripped tighter and pulled him closer. She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. It was brief and chaste, and when she pulled away, they were both pink in the face.

She turned the doorknob quickly and cracked the door, allowing Monica's music to fill the landing. "Night," she quipped, turning into the door.

Still trying to process the feeling of her kiss on his cheek, Deeks struggled to find something witty to say. However, all he could bring himself to say in his dazed state was a murmured, "Goodnight."

Kensi made to close the door, and they both noticed Monica at the same time. She was standing in the living room, watching their interaction with a knowing smile. "Kens," she said, eyeing Deeks in mock concern, "I think you broke Marty."


End file.
